Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3

by Marsha A. Moore

  Logan started toward the man but held back as I extended my wand.

  “Keep your distance.” I glared at Murdock. Remembering Hypatia’s spell, I waved my wand at his feet, preventing his advancement. Retreating would be his only recourse.

  “I don’t mean no harm to you or that fella masqueradin’ as high priest,” he sputtered and lumbered into the shadows of his property.

  Logan roared, “Keep it that way.”

  Murdock responded with another maniacal laugh that turned my stomach.

  Keir darted across the road, gathered a stone from Murdock’s driveway, slipped it into his jacket pocket, and rejoined us.

  “Do you think the old man knows what happened tonight?” I asked Keir and Logan as we headed to my house.

  “I feel black magic in that rock I picked up,” the seer said. “I’ll do some readings at home and let you know if I find anything. I’ll stay to help you two check the house, then I’m leaving to pick up Waapake.”

  Inside, we called for Fenton repeatedly on every floor. We didn’t receive any response, but nothing seemed out of place. The furnace hummed in the warm house. House spirits busied themselves straightening vases, creaking along ceiling beams, and pinging inside radiators, following as we moved from room to room.

  “Fenton will show up if he needs help. We’ll have to count on that,” Keir said when we finished the search.

  “That wily weasel wouldn’t hesitate to ask for help, that’s for sure,” Logan added.

  With hands on my hips, I glared at him. “He might’ve given up his soul to keep me safe from the banshee tonight.”

  “Yeah, you may be right. Even depraved people can have a few good traits.” Logan met my stare with steely eyes that softened as his mouth drew into a hangdog grin. “If he did save you, I’ll be the first to tell him I’m forever grateful.”

  Keir asked him, “Do you want to put a ward around the house?”

  “It won’t keep out the banshee, but it might be good against Murdock,” Logan replied.

  “That’d make me feel better,” I said.

  Logan addressed me. “The ward will have to be strengthened daily. That’ll drain me, since I’ll be working long hours starting tomorrow with the carriage house open nightly till Samhain.”

  “Can I set the ward?” I asked. “I’ve never done one but I can learn.”

  “Maybe. You have to connect to the house spirits. Since I’ve worked on the property for years, many of them recognize me.”

  “Cerise would be the best since she knows the house spirits here better than anyone,” Keir advised.

  “I’ll call her tomorrow.” I followed the two men outside and watched as they invoked the spirits of relations who remained in the homestead. Although the process lasted only a couple minutes, they slumped against the porch rail, clearly spent.

  Keir waved a goodbye, ambled to his car, and drove away.

  Logan slung an arm around my shoulders. “Have Cerise meet me here at five tomorrow. We’ll strengthen the ward and take time to teach you as we do it. Until then, you’ll be safe inside and can come and go without affecting the spell. Will you be okay alone tonight?”

  “With my newly charged wand, why wouldn’t I be?” I waved the wand in front of us, trying to reassure both him and me. “It was fun to test it out on Murdock.”

  “You were great at that ceremony. I was so proud of you.” Logan kissed my cheek.

  “I’m exhausted and I bet you are too. What a night.”

  “Call me if you need anything at all.” He turned me to face him and pulled me close for a quick kiss on the lips.

  At the front door, I watched Logan leave. I longed to feel his warmth cocooning me like last night. With all that had happened, our special time together seemed like years ago. As the sweetness waved over me, the adrenaline from earlier subsided and weariness crept in.

  I shut the door and my thoughts returned to Fenton. I didn’t want to believe what Murdock had said. I searched the house once more, thinking the ghost might not have made himself visible to the men, especially to Logan. Still no luck. In the bedroom next to mine, I hoped to find Maggie in her mirror. When only my own reflection shone back, despair and exhaustion hit me. I perched on the cushioned dresser bench, folded my arms to the top, and dropped my tired head there.

  “Aggie, dearest, take yourself to bed,” Maggie’s strong maternal voice roused my fading mind and I sat up. She looked prim and fresh as her daughter always did, hair neatly done in a braided silver bun and the peach fuzz of her cheeks rouged.

  “I’m fine. Just a long day…night…the full moon.” I presented my wand.

  “Day or night. All the same to a busy witch. Lovely wand. The queen of the forest made you her princess tonight.”

  My heavy eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

  “The air is vibrating with the news. Can’t you hear it?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. No. I think Fenton was there and—”

  “Indeed he was.”

  I sat forward on the bench. “Have you seen him since? Is he safe? Or did the banshee—”

  She threw her head back and let out a tinkling laugh. “He’s shrewder than that.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Would you like to play a game with me?” Maggie’s hand passed through the mirror and set a cat figurine of pale green Depression glass on the dresser.

  Although exhausted and desperate to find Fenton safe, playing along with Maggie’s demented line of thought might provide the clues I needed. I refrained from restating my question and considered the glass cat.

  “I have a prize for you if you win.” She smiled and fingered the strand of pearls at the neckline of her white lace collar.

  I picked up the cat. “Okay. I’ll play.”

  Maggie clapped her hands like a child. “Pick out one from your bureau top, the one you think is stronger, and set it beside mine.”

  I surveyed the selection of a dozen or so figurines in green, pink, and milk-colored Depression glass. I suspected the three types represented the three groups in the coven: white witches, black witches, and spirits. The results of adding one of each to my bonfire had supported my theory. But which color represented which group? I touched a milk-glass rooster. White likely symbolized good witchcraft used for pure intentions. Or because it was opaque, unlike the transparent green and pink, did that signify the non-living spirit world? I brushed a finger over the tongue of a miniature green boot. The sheer green seemed like what I loved most about nature, like a lens that added magic to everything.

  To best learn the rules, I decided to lose. I plucked a pale pink duckling, sweet and unassuming, and set it beside Maggie’s green cat.

  She hooted. “Beginner’s luck, winning on two counts. Pink spirit trumps green, and the duck being of water can douse the cat’s fire. Perhaps you should’ve waited to play such a strong piece though. Now, you give me one to beat.”

  So pink represented the spirit world. Also, the interplay of elemental alignment mattered, like in the childhood game I played with my friends at home, our improved version of rock, scissors, and paper. Wanting to test the milk-glass, I passed the rooster across the mirror to Maggie.

  “Hmpf. A hard one. You’re good.” Her arm moved back and forth to areas in her realm I couldn’t see. She placed two pieces beside my rooster, a green pipe and a pink dragon.

  “I thought you could only give one piece.”

  “Milk-glass counts as two of the others because it’s black magic. You can’t see through it. Both nature’s green and the spirit’s pink are needed to overtake the opaque darkness. And both of those must be of a winning element as well, like mine are fire to burn the air out of your rooster.”

  “So that’s what I need to beat the black magic curse? I asked.

  “You already have Nannan’s wand, the strength of nature’s fire. The complement you need would be an earth element from the spirit world.”

  I leaned closer. “Where wo
uld I get that?”

  She handed me a pink gnome figurine. “There you be.”

  “No. I mean in real life, not in this game.”

  “Oh, right. To fight the black curse. That’s simple, too. My mother made a keepsake that holds locks of hair from O’Mara descendants who lived here in Coon Hollow. All’s I know was, I saw it last in the attic under an invisibility spell she cast. Paddy O’Mara’s pocket watch will reveal the keepsake, but only if you possess energy that complements the keepsake. Find the watch in the trunk with his nameplate.”

  I rose and another question hit me. “Will Nannan’s wand and that keepsake be strong enough for me to fight fire and earth elements of black magic?”

  “If you can use both tools fully, yes.” Her lips turned down. “Are you leaving? We’ve not finished our game.”

  “Thanks for teaching me your game, but I need to find that keepsake. I’ll come back to finish our game another time.”

  “I’d like that. If you see Fenton, have him come play. He’s good at our new game.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks again.” With her addled mind, she could only focus on the game and didn’t appear to understand the importance of the knowledge she’d given me. I raced into my room and pulled Fenton’s hatbox from the closet shelf onto the bed. I rooted through strands of pearls, scarves, and loose playing cards until I found the old watch. I hoped my search through Fenton’s things would agitate him to make an appearance, but that didn’t happen.

  With both watch and wand in hand, I raced to the attic, and flicked on the single bare bulb. I opened the timepiece cover. The hands spun and the end twig of my wand waggled. I held tight to both. After a long moment, the hands and wand converged on a point to my right. Exactly as my red wax fragments had indicated when they aligned in the bowl of water. Heartened by that validation, I took a step and the pair readjusted. With slow, precise movements to keep the two aligned, a small trunk, no bigger than a shoebox, became visible. Unmarked and plain in every way other than its enchantment, I set down the wand and watch and opened the lid. There lay an elegant alabaster trinket box. I drank in every detail. Carving on the top showed the likeness of the Earth Goddess of Fertility, a gilded pentacle in her hands and a wolf at her feet—all correspondences of the earth element. I turned the top to release the lid and locks of red, blond, auburn, and chestnut hair mingled inside.

  “You were stellar tonight, lass,” Fenton’s voice said from behind, and I spun around, relieved until I saw him.

  He appeared in his usual ghostly form, although his suit was stained and torn nearly to shreds.

  Chapter Twenty-five: Specialist in Magical Tools

  “Are you okay?” I set the keepsake beside my wand and rushed to where Fenton stood near the attic door.

  “Aye. Just a little roughed up.” He tilted his hat low over one eye and shot me a coy grin.

  “What happened to you? Were you at the ceremony?”

  “I was an’ you did a right fine job. Proud o’ you, lass.”

  “Why is your suit torn?” I restated and patted the air where his arm appeared.

  “I was discovered and had to make a swift getaway from the banshee.”

  “How did it find you?”

  “I…uh…let it hear me own wail so it’d leave you be to finish what you needed to do.”

  I pressed a hand to my heart. “You put yourself at risk to save me?”

  “Twas nothing.” He looked across the room. “And was for me own good, too. Now with that wand, which led you to Ellie’s keepsake, you stand a chance o’ beating the demon.”

  “But what if it’d caught you?”

  He shrugged. “Had to take that chance.”

  “Thanks. I was terrified for you. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  “I’m sorry I gave you a fright.”

  I picked up the pocket watch and held it out to him. “I borrowed your dad’s watch. Maggie told me to use it along with my wand to find the keepsake. I played the figurine game with her, and she taught me how the types of magic here in the Hollow interact.”

  He chuckled and accepted the watch, then wrapped his weightless arms around me. The hug I couldn’t feel still comforted me. He pulled back and said, “Maggie’s a real smart lass, but sometimes you have to listen sideways to understand her. I imagine her mind’s no clearer as a house spirit. Wish I could still interact with her. That game’s all we have.”

  I motioned to the keepsake and wand. “I’ve found those and you, what the riddle specified. All that’s left is to fight the banshee before Samhain passes.”

  “You ready?”

  I shook my head. “Hardly. I need to practice with my wand. And I have no idea how to use the keepsake. Maggie called it a tool, so it must do something. Any ideas?”

  “Ellie worked it using her dream magic.”

  “I wonder if that’s why she made me a dream-walker?”

  “You saw me sister?” His eyes bugged out like lumps of coal.

  “Yes. In the cemetery.” I held out my wrist with the beryl bracelet. “Coyote Mother was with her and activated this to safeguard me against psychic manipulation.”

  He settled onto a large trunk and shook his head. “That Ellie thinks o’ everything, even from her prison in that dream world.” Had Fenton avoided taking her path on purpose? He’d told me earlier he lacked magical ability. Was that a lie?

  “I went there. It was a pretty meadow. She seemed happy.”

  “I’m glad.” His head tilted in my direction. “After all this is over, do you think you could take me to see me sister?”

  “I’ll definitely try.”

  He looked away as if deep in thought, and the conversation quieted.

  A few seconds later, I asked, “Behind the shed, I found cracked earth stained with yew potion. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Bodies were buried out there, those whose souls weren’t empowered, including Dodie, Ellie, and her child who passed as a babe.”

  “The cracks looked fresh, and the potion had a sharp smell. What’s going on?”

  He shrugged.

  I bent to gather my tools and when I stood, he was gone. Some of my questions had been answered, big ones still remained, and new ones crept up. Fenton seemed to know more than he let on. But he had kept me safe and jeopardized himself doing it. That meant a lot and added conviction to my destiny. I hoped soon I could return Fenton’s favor and fight for him.

  ***

  I arrived home from work the next day to find Cerise and Logan in an animated conversation on my porch. He looked so handsome in a dark suit, dressed to run the carriage house with authority. The way the black wool set off his golden curls brought pleasant shivers across my skin.

  As soon as I opened my car door, Cerise met me at the shed, “Logan filled me in on more details. What a night you all had. I wished I could’ve seen the consecration, but am glad I missed the banshee.”

  I folded myself into her open arms. The soft fuzz of her white cashmere sweater soothed my nerves.

  “Thank the Goddess you’re safe. I’d have to hurt Logan if he let anything happen to you, and he knows my mind on this.” She chuckled and broke away.

  “Not a chance,” Logan said as he joined us. “I’ll do all I can to keep Aggie safe. Let’s see that keepsake.”

  I pulled it from my messenger bag and unwrapped the flannel covering I’d used. “I don’t know how to work it. I tried for a while last night, but I was too tired to do much.”

  Cerise touched a delicate finger to the alabaster carving. “Lovely. I made an appointment tomorrow morning for us to see Tynewell Tynker, a witch who’s an expert in vintage magical tools. He’s interested in helping. Does that work for you, Aggie?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “It’s a fancy thing,” Logan said. “I pictured something with mechanical parts. But I might’ve guessed a witch who worked oneiromancy would choose these pale, dream-like figures.”

  As we walked past the corner
of the shed, my gaze drifted to the area beyond where we’d smelled the yew potion. “I told you both on the phone I’d talked with Fenton last night. He didn’t know much about the cracked ground other than bodies with unempowered souls had been buried there. Logan, did you ever get Dulcie to talk to you about what happened to her at this spot?”

  “She brushed me off saying that being under a dark spell was a rush. She wanted to do it again. I pressed her about who cast the spell. She just laughed and said she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, especially herself.”

  “I wonder if she’s being manipulated,” Cerise added.

  He nodded. “Probably, by someone with power, like Gladys Blinkhorne.”

  “Wouldn’t doubt that,” I replied.

  When we reached the porch, Cerise said, “Let’s get this ward reinforced or I won’t sleep tonight.” She placed her snow-white hands on the front door. “Both of you do this with me. Most of the house spirits greet me at this door before I open it. Feel for them.”

  Moments later, dull vibrations rumbled under my hands. “I feel some, barely.”

  “Me, too, but nothing big,” Logan said.

  “Getting louder now,” I reported.

  “Good. Send as much power as they’ll accept when I speak the spell.” She glanced at each of us, then continued. “Spirits of those long gone, join my magic hereupon. And thus no harm can penetrate, the wall our energy permeates.”

  I concentrated on her words, and a force from the house sucked energy from me like a bad case of the flu. I held on till I felt I might faint, then peeled my hands free and collapsed against the porch rail.

  Cerise gently floated her arms to her sides and tapped the toe of her black patent pump, while Logan and I gasped for air. “Looks like I’ll be setting the daily wards. Aggie, I’ll be here tomorrow at nine. After we meet with Tyne, I’ll help with your driving lesson. Toby’s taking the boys rabbit hunting.” She gave a wave and headed to her car.

  “What a way to start a full night of work.” Logan ran a hand over his brow as he held to the railing. “Cerise wasn’t even affected.”