Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3

by Marsha A. Moore

  Bumping into other mummified pairs, we stumbled down the steps into the open carriage garage. There, a growling monster gnashed its teeth next to my ear as it unwound our wrapping, spinning us in a dizzying circle.

  The lady beside me lost her balance and fell against a man ahead.

  I scanned the large room, inspecting shadows around carriages, but found no new dangers. Yelps and muffled cries sounded from hidden parts of the garage. I edged around a closed buggy, expecting anything to jump out at me. I circled behind and heard heavy breathing but saw nothing. I took a step closer, and it grew to a raspy panting which seemed to come from inside the carriage. Ready to meet the threat, I took a deep inhale and took hold of the door handle. I turned the knob. At the moment it clicked, a hand slapped hard down on my shoulder. My hood was pulled off, and a gravely male voice whispered, “Coven members don’t wear jeans to this event. Who are you?”

  I spun around to confront an obese middle-aged man, whose beady dark eyes scanned my face. Expecting a demon, I was caught off guard.

  “I don’t know you. You must be a townie sneaked in to see what happens on coven night.” He grabbed onto my arm with a force that made me wince and escorted me next to an open side door where two other men stood. “Found a real intruder.” He was a brown-noser. His self-centered touch magically burned my skin.

  I yanked my arm away and ran a hand through my tousled hair. “My name is Aggie Anders. I’m related to Toby Rudman’s family in New Wish.”

  The man who’d accosted me took a step back. “New Wish?”

  I shot him a stern look, lifted my chin, and addressed the others. “Cerise invited me to live in her homestead.”

  A handsome, tall blond man, who looked to be in his mid-twenties, whipped out a hand. “I’m Logan Dennehy, the newly-appointed priest of Coon Hollow Coven. Pleased to meet you, Aggie.”

  I grasped his hand with a firm shake, eager to use my haptics. His genuine acceptance surprised me after the fat man’s coarse rudeness.

  Logan nodded to the tall gray-haired man at his side. “This is Art Kerry, one of the Coven Council members.”

  Art tipped his fedora. “Welcome, Aggie.”

  “I’m sure this is legit.” With a calm tone, Logan addressed Art. “Did we get papers from the Rudman’s?”

  Before he could answer, the security light on the homestead’s shed roof flashed. From over the hill leading to my house, the banshee let out a blood-curdling wail so loud that silence spread over the haunted carriage house.

  Chapter Three: Oatmeal Cookies

  After the menacing banshee’s death wail from across the way at the homestead house, eerie silence hung over the carriage house. Coven members froze in place. Was that realistic cry part of the curse meant to scare away outsiders…like me?

  Seconds hung like minutes, and I twisted around searching for Cerise or Toby. From near an old buggy, Cerise turned to face me, the usual rosy color of her cheeks drained to alabaster. I took a step in her direction, but a trembling hand touched my elbow.

  Without time to read the contact with my haptics, I spun back to find Logan leaned toward me, darkness invading his clear blue eyes. “Will you be joining the party at the coven meeting hall?”

  I sensed his invitation as kind and genuine with a hint of concern I wanted to explore in more detail, but he dropped his hand away too soon.

  Although he spoke in a shaky whisper, his voice reverberated throughout the rafters as if he’d yelled the words. The call of a barn owl pierced the stillness in the haunted cabin. With urgent, staccato notes, people called to locate family and friends.

  “What just happened?” I asked Logan, ignoring his question.

  Art Kerry’s gray wooly-bear caterpillar brows shot up to meet the brim of his fedora.

  The rude man, who’d moments ago, presented me as an intruder sputtered and choked out some unintelligible words. His obese form bent as his chest heaved.

  Art offered him a thermos. “Oscar, have some water.”

  The man clutched it to his jowls with a fat hand, slurping with vigor.

  Logan spoke in a lower tone. “That cry wasn’t acting. Dulcie Quinn, who you saw on the roof when you entered, is a fine actress playing the part of our banshee. That cry was from her, but it wasn’t her usual style.” His breath warmed my ear. It allowed me to read more: concern and fear for impending danger, responsibility to keep his coven safe, and intrigue that the danger involved me.

  My brows knitted, and I pulled away. “I know what the cry of a banshee meant in old folklore. Do people here still think it is an omen?”

  He gave a nod, and waves of golden blond hair fell across his eyes. “This coven has plenty of Celtic families who believe in the old ways.” He pushed the strands away and his gaze met mine. “Our founding covenant dictates we uphold tradition, much more than where you’re from as I understand. To keep our magic pure.”

  A familiar touch on my shoulder sent comfort and security through me. “Aggie, there you are.” Cerise’s voice sounded strained in what seemed an attempt at her usual cheeriness. “I see you’ve met our new high priest, Logan.”

  “I was just inviting Aggie to the party at the meeting hall.” He replied with a slight grin. “Will your family be going?”

  “Yes, we’re planning on it unless the boys…” Her sons’ voices sounded at the back of the garage, and she snapped her head over her shoulder. When the boys appeared, a small sigh escaped her lips, and she faced Logan. “Yes, we’ll be there. I’d like to introduce Aggie to more folks here.”

  His hand brushed my arm, the touch laced with eagerness to learn more about the ominous screech. “Great. I’ll see you there, Aggie.”

  I replied with something of a grin, unsure what to make of his unsaid thoughts.

  Cerise locked an arm in the crook of my elbow and swept me away from the three men. We joined Toby, who had gathered the boys. Cerise didn’t let go of my arm, and the restrained emptiness of emotions in her touch scared me. I didn’t read any emotions from Cerise until her family exited the haunted cabin and were in sight of their car in the homestead’s drive.

  Then, I was overwhelmed by fragments of her emotions. I worked my arm free and took a wide step away. I needed space to clear my mind but kept my gaze on her. “What was that all about?”

  Toby bundled the boys in the car and brushed his wife’s shoulder. “Murdock?”

  She nodded and balled her tiny hands into fists and paced the ground near her open car door. “This time he’s gone too far.”

  “Everyone stay here while I have a look around.” He lifted his cape’s hood over his head.

  She called after him, “Be careful.”

  I glanced at the old man’s house across the street. Trees blocked all but the yellow glow from interior lights and a few reflected glints off the white frame siding.

  “I saw Murdock’s face in the garage window just before that last banshee cry.” Cerise kept her voice low. “He was grinning like he was up to something. When the shriek sounded, he tilted his head back and laughed. Then he dropped out of sight.”

  “You think he caused the banshee to wail?” I asked.

  “Who knows? That old man’s got some odd magic about him. It might not have been a real banshee at all. He may well have hexed Dulcie Quinn. Maybe Toby will find her and learn more about what happened.”

  I leaned against the car’s front fender. “If he’s trying to scare me off, I’m going to have to show that old man some New Wish witchcraft.”

  She massaged my shoulder. “Please let none of this change your mind about living here. We love having you around. I know I do. It’s like having another chance to be with my little sister, Louise. She passed away when we were kids. You remind me of her, quiet but determined.”

  I grinned. “That’s me. And I’m not about to leave. Let Murdock bring on all he’s got.”

  Cerise rambled about her sister and the happy childhood they shared. “Louise could turn river pebbles
into frogs. As hard as I tried, I never could.”

  Eight-year-old Harry poked his head out. “She could make frogs? Really?”

  Cerise nodded and rubbed a hand across the dark stubble of his crew cut.

  I cleared my throat. “My brother and I did that all the time. We played a game to see who could find the smallest pebbles to make tadpoles.”

  Cerise stared at me and smiled.

  The boys wiggled out of the car, begging me to make frogs right then.

  I laughed. “It takes river stones. I don’t have any here.”

  Little Bud pulled on my cape and spoke with a lisp from recently lost baby teeth. “Aggie, I’ll beth if you covered Mr. Murdock’s fronth porch in frogs, he’d be scared of you.”

  “Cool!” Harry jumped up and down. “Can I help you?”

  “Me too!” Dustin chimed in.

  “We don’t know who’s the culprit,” I replied with a laugh, “but if I decide to do that, you sure can.”

  Toby returned with a scrap of black fabric in his hand, possibly a part of a cape or skirt. “I found this cloth on a broken board of the shed door. Nothing else.”

  “May I see it?” I accepted the fabric, hoping some essence of its owner remained. I shook my head, unable to get a reading. I lifted it to my nose and smelled the lively, fresh scent of sweet grass. Beneath that top note, I detected a whiff of bitter wormwood, and puckery pipsissewa. With that concoction, someone was trying to attract spirits. Probably not uncommon for an actress in the haunted house trying to get into her demonic role.

  I held the cloth at arm’s length, and a trailing scent of sharp piney yew wafted toward me. I dropped the fabric and slapped a hand over my nose. My mother was a good herbalist, one of the best among many in New Wish. Poisonous yew was used to raise the dead. Together with the other herbs, did that mean raising the spirits of the dead? I wished I’d paid closer attention to my mother when she tried to teach me her craft.

  “What is it?” Toby asked.

  “I’m not sure. Along with a common mixture of herbs that call upon spirits, I smelled yew.”

  “Is yew bad?” Cerise tucked her hair behind her ears as she leaned forward eyeing the cloth. “Herbology isn’t commonly taught here unless you’re an earth witch, which I’m not.”

  Before I could answer, Bud squatted and reached a hand for the cloth.

  I grabbed his hand. “Stay away from that. It needs to be properly discarded. I’ll do that tomorrow when we come back to clean.”

  Toby whispered to his wife, “For raising dead. Highly poisonous. I picked up a thing or two from my New Wish cousins.” He glanced my way. “We both touched the cloth. Let’s dispose of it and wash up inside, just in case.”

  I used a fallen tree branch to transfer the contaminated fabric into the burning barrel beside the shed, then met Toby inside at the kitchen sink.

  “Do you think this will be enough?” he asked.

  I shook my head and accepted the bar of soap. “All depends on what type of spirit was being called upon. If there’s a match to our specific powers, it could cause trouble. If you feel anything odd in the next few days, let me know.”

  He nodded and waited for me to finish.

  Outside, Cerise guided her children to the car, mouthing the words “thank you” to me.

  We all piled into Toby’s sedan with Bud on my lap. His sprawling limbs triggered my haptics, conveying subconscious gratitude for protection from the danger he couldn’t fully comprehend.

  Toby made a stop at Aunt Sally’s. The boys protested, but their parents would not be deterred. “We’ll be up too late,” he said. “You’re to go to sleep on Aunt Sally’s couches, and we’ll pick you up on our way home. Maybe, if you’re good, she’ll make the couches fly like before.”

  Bud’s eyes opened wide like deep, brown pools, and his mouth formed a tiny circle. “They fly? Really?”

  “Yeah.” Dustin poked his youngest brother. “You were too little to remember. She’ll do it, but you have to be real good. She’s strict.”

  ***

  From the backseat window, I studied the Council meeting hall’s red brick front while Toby parked. Only a few small windows and a single, plain door punctuated the massive wall. The building looked like an old schoolhouse that had been remodeled with a second floor. The result resembled a cobbled and oversized Shaker saltbox. Unlike most Victorian homes and log cabins in the area, it lacked a welcoming front porch. The structure’s stiff, upright appearance matched the attitude of the two council members I’d met. A single ground floor extension jutted from the side rear, as if to not interrupt the stark facade.

  “Lots of folks here already,” Toby said as the old brown sedan groaned under stress of the parking brake. “Probably wanted to escape association with that banshee cry.”

  Black caped forms scurried inside, some carrying covered dishes.

  “Hmpf. Murdock doesn’t deserve that much of a reaction.” Cerise lifted her petite nose in the air and stepped from the car.

  Leaves falling from surrounding trees flashed golden in the glow of the security lights. From the dense woods along Owls Tail Creek Road, a layer of leaves several inches deep had accumulated in the parking lot. I kicked the toe of my boot through the surface, sending sprays of glittering yellow into the air. To my surprise, my sun magic made the yellow maple leaves sparkle at their pointed tips.

  A few people paused and exclaimed “Oohs and aahs,” but then scurried inside without stopping to talk. I wondered if my magic seemed too unfamiliar.

  One couple drew near, and I held my breath. The man, who looked to be in his late twenties, wore a well-cut, black pinstriped suit under a hoodless cape that swung wide from his broad shoulders. He tipped his fedora my way and spoke with a friendly but assertive tone. “Hello. You must be Aggie. Cerise told us about a kin of Toby’s coming to stay with us from New Wish when we were all there recently. My name’s Rowe McCoy.” He extended a hand.

  His strong handshake was full of vitality and enthusiasm. “Thank you. You must be an animator, and a good one.” I withdrew my hand and rubbed where the buzz of his power lingered on my fingers.

  “Thank you for your compliment. I’m one of the Council members, so if you need anything I can help with, just ask.” He bowed his head, then nodded to the young woman on his arm. “This is Jancie Sadler.”

  She smiled and thrust a hand into mine. “And what do you read in me?” She seemed only a couple years older than me. Strands of light coppery hair crept out from under her hood.

  A wide smile crossed my face, and I grasped her hand in both of mine. “You’re a New Wish witch who knows how to use the south wind like nobody’s business.”

  “And your touch is so warm. You must be a sun witch.” She withdrew her hand and embraced me in a hug. “I now have a sister witch here. I hope we become close friends.”

  “Yeah. I’d like that.” I soaked up the happiness of having a new friend. “I’ve been working on how to use the sun to harness wind power. You might want to know the opposite. We can help each other.”

  “That would be great.”

  “And maybe help me with what to wear here in Coon Hollow.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You’ll do better asking Cerise about that.” Jancie glanced at her, before continuing. “I live outside the coven in the little town of Bentbone, where I grew up. I just discovered I’m a witch and am still learning my powers.”

  I tilted my head. “That must be some story. I can’t wait to hear.”

  “How about over lunch sometime next week?” Jancie dug in her purse and produced a cell phone.

  “Sounds like fun.” I told her my new number at the homestead. “Or you can call Cerise. I’m not sure when I’ll be moved in.”

  Cerise wrapped an arm around each of us and we headed toward the door. “I knew the two of you would hit it off.”

  Rowe held the door for a long line of women, nodding to each. His and Jancie’s friendliness melted the chill I felt
from the austere building.

  Inside, Cerise stayed with Jancie and me, introducing us to more people than I could remember. Both the large council chamber and people were animated. The walls were covered with black and white photographs where likenesses of founding members moved about and waved at their present kin whenever they passed by. When stepped upon, oak floorboards sang with happy voices of children, who Cerise said were former students in the original school. This cheery display of spirits enjoying the party warmed my heart. Maybe I could come to like having dead people around. Tables of finger foods and beverages lined the long back wall. More than once, an arm extended down from a wall photo and snatched an item or three.

  Many coven members expressed gratitude to Jancie for helping free them of wicked High Priestess Adara. Since both Jancie and I were both New Wish witches, they accepted the presence of my odd magic as they accepted hers, with smiles and handshakes.

  One elderly woman, with straight white hair that floated around her head, clutched my hand and wouldn’t let go. Jancie introduced her as Vika, a specialist in earth magic. “So good to have another New Wish witch with us.” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “Bless her heart, Jancie rid the coven of that evil woman. That family monopolized the leadership for decades— for their own advantage, not ours.”

  I stared at Jancie. “And you just learned you’re a witch? Incredible! Another awesome story I can’t wait to hear.”

  She grinned and took a sip of the punch Rowe had handed each of us. “I want to know what growing up in New Wish was like. My mother lived there when she was young—Faye Sadler. I have her New Wish magic.”

  “Betty’s daughter?” My wide smile made the plums of my cheeks puff. “Everyone knows everyone in New Wish. Your family has sure had plenty of magical scrapes and come out ahead.”

  A group of five middle-aged ladies overheard my loud exuberance and looked down their noses. One tall, thin woman took a step our way. She leaned closer, her head tortured with a taut gray bun, her wire-rimmed glasses hanging onto the hooked end of her long nose. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Gladys Blinkhorne, the senior council member, and this is Viola Plackstone, council secretary.”