Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3

by Marsha A. Moore

  Rapid-fire flashes from the moonstone reflected off Jancie’s eyes.

  Their joined hands grew warmer, and Rowe worked to keep his voice steady. “I feel the magic strengthening in your hand. Are you certain that you want to continue?”

  Jancie nodded, met his gaze, then looked back to the gem. “Yes, go on.”

  A trickle of sweat ran down the nape of Rowe’s neck. “Decades later, as an elderly man with a large family, Jude looked back on his life with gratitude and recast the moonstone’s spell, so that it could be used by other witches burdened with grief, to help themselves as well as others.”

  The moonstone flashed faster until its surface shined a constant opalescent blue. And then, the rose-gold clasp which secured the locket sprang, and Jancie gasped.

  Rowe took a deep breath as the locket slowly opened. A black and white photograph of who he presumed to be Charlotte Oatley came into view.

  Jancie’s hand shook, and he wrapped his fingers around the edges of hers to steady her.

  Busby leaned so far forward, Rowe feared he’d fall.

  The carnival noises outside the tent faded.

  “Everything went quiet, but that’s all.” Jancie’s voice faltered. “How will my mother appear?” She asked, without taking her eyes off the open locket.

  “I don’t know.” He steadied their hands with his other. “It hasn’t opened in generations. Keep watching.”

  Her shallow, irregular breathing and his own rapid pulse pounding in his ears were the only sounds he heard for what seemed like several minutes.

  Finally, a faint glow formed around the edge of the portrait. It grew more pronounced, then expanded into the air above the locket. They followed the white vapor as it rose. An amorphous shape of light filled the space over their heads.

  Busby’s wingtips fluttered at his sides, but otherwise he remained collected, which made Rowe proud of his familiar-in-training’s restraint.

  “Mom?” Jancie sputtered.

  The formless mass responded and twisted into the shape of a human figure, a woman with long hair at her shoulders.

  “Mom! It’s me. Jancie.” Her hand shook so much that Rowe gripped it hard, fearing if the locket slipped out, the connection might break.

  The image grew more detailed with definite facial features, high cheekbones and a pointed chin, like Jancie’s.

  “Is that you, Mom?” Jancie begged.

  The diaphanous woman reached a white hand down. “Yes, Jancie. It’s Mom. I’ve missed you, sweetie.” Her gentle voice spread over them with the comfort of a warm quilt.

  Rowe stared in awe at the woman’s spirit. Sensing their intense love, his heart swelled. He’d helped them connect. He was grateful for his continued communication with Edme after her death. He wondered why he was able to see and hear Jancie’s mother, but was overcome being a part of their special moment.

  Jancie reached her free hand up to clasp her mother’s. “Oh Mom, I love you and miss you too.”

  The white fingers laced between Jancie’s. “I know it’s hard to be apart, but you have a good life ahead. I want you to live that life and be happy.”

  Tears streamed down Jancie’s cheeks. “I will, Mom. But I’ll still miss you. I’ll never forget.”

  “I know you won’t, sweetie. And neither will I.” A wide smile formed on her mother’s pale face, and her voice cracked as she continued. “I saw you tending my garden. Thank you, sweetie.”

  “You knew I did that?” Jancie’s mouth curled into a smile that matched her mother’s.

  “I sure did. Even saw how you transplanted the mint shoots.” Her mother’s smiling face radiated light in all directions. “Remember this: move the seeds with you wherever you go, and we’ll always be together.”

  “I felt you in the garden too, Mom. And I’ll always keep it for you.” Jancie’s voice faltered, choked on tears.

  “I have to go, sweetie. But I’ll be with you. Happiness will come to you, Jancie.” The features on her face dimmed.

  “Mom! Goodbye, Mom. I love you,” Jancie cried, her grasp tightening through the disappearing hand.

  “I love you too, Jancie.” Her mother’s voice trailed away as the image faded into the original formless vapor. “I always will.” Her last words were almost inaudible.

  The white light returned to swirl around the locket’s inner rim, then extinguished. The lid remained open in Jancie’s palm.

  “Thank you so much,” she said to Rowe through sniffles. “That meant everything to me.” She touched his free hand with her own.

  Seeing her gratitude and happiness, moisture seeped into Rowe’s eyes. “I’m glad I could help you. That was incredible.”

  “I could see her face and everything. I felt her hold my hand.” Jancie’s excitement spilled out like a trickling brook. “And she knew I’d tended her garden just this weekend. She’s with me!”

  “It was amazing. I’ve never witnessed a spirit presence that clear. And never channeled a ghost myself.”

  "Why is the locket still open?” she asked.

  He glanced down. “Don’t move your hand. Its job isn’t finished. It will exact the price, whatever that might be.”

  Upon Rowe’s direction to Jancie, the owl clamped his relaxed wings back against his sides.

  Jancie shot Rowe a questioning glance, then she looked deeper into his eyes, and her brows calmed.

  Her gaze held Rowe, like she’d worked a spell on him. He flinched and attempted to look away, but a powerful energy, coming from the open locket, controlled his attention. After an uncomfortable minute, he stopped resisting. While he looked at Jancie’s face, he saw a strong woman with an enormous ability to care for others. He saw not only her gorgeous red-gold hair and sparkling hazel eyes, but a complex, inner beauty. A fascinating young woman, with a purity as delicate and amazing as a rose.

  Her lips parted, like opening petals. “What did the moonstone do for you?”

  “Well,” he began, unsure how to answer. “According to the legend, when the moonstone responds, I’ll be freed of my grief.” He studied her eyes. They glinted and crinkled at the outer corners with her smile. He returned her smile. Her joy brought a surprising sense of peace throughout his body. Until released, the stress carried by hundreds of small muscles for so long hadn’t registered.

  “From the look on your face, I’m guessing it worked.” Her free hand cradled his.

  “Yes, somehow it did.” His fingers entwined with hers, the open locket resting in the bed of their joined hands.

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so glad something good happened for you too.” She pursed her lips. “But you said there’d be a price for this magic. I don’t see anything wrong or difficult.”

  “There is a prophecy: the person who can channel the moonstone’s energy and open the locket is the one who takes away my grief. In a way we may not understand, you will help me, directly or indirectly, fill the void left by my loss.”

  Jancie tilted her head to one side. “Hmm. I don’t feel any burden.” She paused, then shrugged. “You’ve helped me so much, I can’t even find words to thank you. Helping you in turn only seems right.”

  The still locket came to life pulsing with blue light that emanated from the moonstone beneath.

  “What’s happening?” Jancie clasped his hands tighter.

  Before Rowe could respond, blue swirled around Charlotte’s photo again. “No idea.” He leaned forward, ready to protect her from any fierce repercussion.

  Rowe’s familiar mirrored his actions and crouched with wings poised to fly.

  Light overflowed and spilled onto the necklace’s chain, forming a circle. Once complete, the chain lifted into the air above Jancie’s head and settled around her neck. The open locket touched her skin and closed.

  “What does this mean?” she asked.

  Crowd noises from outside the tent reached Rowe again. “I expect the locket will remain with you until you complete its price. How do you feel? Any different?”
>
  “No. I don’t feel anything. Just thrilled that I saw Mom.” She lifted her purse into her lap. “I’ll write down my phone number so we can keep in touch for me to help you.” She scribbled onto a small pad of paper.

  Rowe pulled a business card and pen from his inner jacket pocket and wrote his home number on the back. They exchanged information, and he directed, “Be sure to keep that pendant hidden from view as much as possible. If people find out what it is, they may be fearful of the unknown.” He paused and watched her, uneasy about whether that knowledge might frighten her.

  She tucked it inside her blouse and grinned. “Easy enough since the chain is long.”

  “You aren’t afraid to wear it?”

  She held her head high and looked him square in the eye. “No. It helped me and will help you. And Mom said I’d have a happy life. I believe in that.”

  Rowe marveled at her strength, her ability to trust in goodness. A pure spirit. She’s the one chosen to help me, and I vow to protect her.

  A recognizable witch’s energy passing the front wall of his tent broke his thoughts. Adara.

  Busby sailed around the tent’s ceiling, leaving a pale golden trail of protective magic. Rowe marveled at how the familiar was learning to read his own reactions and take action.

  Rowe feared for how the moonstone may have marked Jancie. Being connected to him could make her a visible target for the jealous high priestess. His jaw tensed. “Jancie, before you entered my tent did you have any interaction with the coven leader Adara, who I introduced you to earlier?”

  Jancie squirmed in her seat and checked the tent’s door. “On my way here, when I passed the crystal ball tent, the flap opened, and a beam of white light shined on me. Just me and no one else. Right then, Adara appeared. She passed the odd incident off, but her laugh made me nervous. I knew she was lying. That light on me was no accident.”

  His brow lifted. “What happened after that?” He cursed himself for being a step behind Adara. She’d seen the moonstone flash for Jancie that day outside the carnival. Adara must have assumed it would open. She, of course, trailed the girl to his tent and may have set a spell on Jancie already. He swallowed hard.

  “My ex-boyfriend Harley wants me back. He spotted me, so I split from my friends. They acted as decoys to lure him away from me so I could get here.”

  “Does Harley have a dangerous temper?” Rowe asked. “An aggressive sort?”

  Jancie let out a laugh. “No, he’s more of a nuisance. Won’t take no for an answer.”

  Rowe’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Now that you’ve connected to the moonstone’s energy, it marks you. Stay clear of the coven leader.”

  Jancie lifted the chain partially off of her neck.

  “That won’t make any difference.” He lifted a palm. “When you connect to the energy of any enchanted stone, you’re marked whether or not you have it with you.”

  “What does the coven leader want from me?” Jancie ran a finger across the gem now resting on her chest. “The moonstone’s energy?”

  He shook his head. “No. She wants me and will hurt any woman I’m with.” He sighed, unsure how to explain what he didn’t understand himself. “Kind of like how Harley chases you, but I never dated her. In fact, I really dislike Adara.”

  Jancie nodded and sighed.

  “The problem is, Adara may hurt people who are in her way.” Rowe took Jancie’s hand. “I won’t allow her to hurt you. We need to get you out of the carnival.” That was an urgent first step, but he knew he’d need to protect her at home and wherever she went in the days to come. Vika could help with stronger protection spells than he could do alone.

  “What about later, at home or my work at the bank?” Jancie’s eyes widened. “Will she look for me there? What can she do to me?”

  “Her goal will be to keep you and me apart. The less she sees us together, the better. I’ll explain more later. Right now, we have to get you out of here. Do you have plans to meet your friends somewhere?”

  “Not really. Although we talked about going on the Racing Serpent after I met with you.” She opened her purse and pulled out her phone. “We did agree to connect with texts if we got separated.” She opened her messages. “They did send me one: Lost Harley in Fun House. Heading to Serpents. Meet us there.”

  “Good.” Rowe stood and motioned to the door. “We’ll find your friends there, and I’ll escort you all out. Or I’ll take you home, if they don’t want to leave.”

  Outside, he worked fast to tie the flap, set a protection on it, then hurried Jancie to the back alley with his owl flying close. They wound through the close corridor, picking their way in dim light over electrical cables and tent supports. Behind the Arcane Aviary’s large tent, he took her hand to help her over the dark hazards. He guided them into the backstage area of the marionette theater, quiet between shows save for the elderly couple who ran the act. The door on the tent’s opposite wall offered a view of the serpent ride.

  Jancie paused to check her phone. “No new texts. I got the last one fifteen minutes ago.”

  Rowe partially lifted the flap. “Peek out to look for them.”

  She crouched and looked through the slit. “They aren’t in line. Maybe they’re on the ride.” She moved to get a different view and watched for a few minutes.

  Rowe checked for traces of Adara’s energy, and was relieved to find none. Either she couldn’t identify Jancie’s friends, or she’d cloaked her powers. He hoped for the former.

  “They just came off the ride.” She moved under the door canvas, but Rowe’s arm caught her elbow.

  “Wait here.” He moved past her. “I’ll bring them back here where it’s safer. Point me to them.”

  She extended an arm. “That group of three. Rachelle has the long skirt on, Willow has white-blonde hair, and Lizbeth has the long dark hair.”

  “Busby, stay here and keep Jancie safe.”

  “You can rely on me, Master.” The owl puffed his feathers, trailed a thin protective veil around her, and took a lookout spot on the outer support pole above the door.

  Rowe stepped out and noticed Rachelle typing on her phone while the other two stood by. He darted around the end of a low barricade and approached them. “Rachelle, Willow, Lizbeth, I’m Rowe. Jancie is nearby. Please come with me. I’ll take you to her.”

  “Is she safe?” Rachelle asked with a husky voice, eyes wide.

  He nodded and motioned for them to join him.

  The women looked at each other, then Rachelle led the way after him.

  Back inside the marionette tent, she hugged Jancie. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, and I saw Mom.” Jancie clung to her friend’s forearms. “She held my hand and talked with me.”

  “Awesome!” Rachelle replied and hugged Jancie tighter.

  Willow squealed so much that Rowe feared they’d be discovered.

  He heard shuffling, as if someone moved toward their location. He put a finger to his lips and touched the bouncing blonde’s shoulder.

  A curtain moved aside, and Logan’s head of golden wavy hair appeared. “What the heck? Rowe, what are you doing here?” He stepped out and called over his shoulder. “Miss Selma, everything’s okay. It’s only Rowe.”

  “How nice. Hello to you, Rowe,” the sweet, pitchy voice of the old woman replied from the other side of the curtain.

  “Hello, Miss Selma,” Rowe called out.

  “Logan, this is Jancie and her friends Rachelle, Willow, and Lizbeth.” Rowe gestured toward each. “Logan is a good friend of mine. Jancie and I hid here to collect her friends from the serpent ride. We need to get her out of the carnival right away.”

  “The moonstone responded?” Logan’s blue eyes flashed in the light of the bare ceiling bulb.

  Rowe nodded.

  “That’s great!” Logan glanced from Rowe to Jancie. “I can help get them out.”

  “Me too, Master!” Busby flew between them to land on a packing crate. “I want to help
too.”

  “Whoa!” Willow spun around, her gaze following him. “That owl can talk.”

  Lizbeth stepped closer to Busby. “That’s not so strange. Witches often take familiars who they command to do magic on their behalf. The old lady from the coven who frequents the library tells me about her raccoon familiar who just had a litter of babies.”

  “That must be Hetta. I’ve been helping her with them, hoping to adopt one for my own familiar.” Logan grinned at the little owl and continued to Rowe. “I take long breaks to check on the elderly readers. I can be away from my tent without being noticed.” He moved closer to Rowe and lowered his voice. “What’s the danger? Adara?”

  “Yes. She talked Lumena into shining her crystal ball onto Jancie when she walked past.”

  Logan shook his head. “Can’t be good.”

  The women glanced at Jancie, eyes wide, and Rachelle squeezed her hand.

  “Isn’t Adara the high priestess?” Lizbeth fiddled with the end of a small braid at the side of her face.

  Jancie nodded. “The moonstone’s energy marks me.” She pulled the gem out from the neckline of her blouse.

  “She’s powerful.” Lizbeth held the locket away from her friend’s neck and examined it. “What does she want? That energy to make her more powerful?”

  “No. She wants Rowe,” Jancie replied. “The moonstone connects me to him.”

  Logan shook his head, and the three women shot Jancie curious looks. Rachelle wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

  “You guys don’t need to leave with me unless you want to.” Jancie looked at each of her friends. “Rowe can take me home.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” Rachelle replied. “Are you crazy?”

  Logan eyed Rowe. “You’d be gone from your tent for close to an hour? Adara watches you like a—”

  “She would get suspicious, but I won’t risk keeping Jancie here.” Rowe’s tone grew stern. “You know the risk is too great.”

  “I can take you home, Jancie,” Logan replied.