Potion of the Hound
Mystical Mishaps Series · Book 1
Alicia Scarborough
Contents
Prologue
1. Sneaking Out
2. Investigation
3. The Warning
4. The Slip
5. Wrong Potion
6. Fox Trouble
7. Making Potions
8. Health Inspection
9. Fox on the Run
10. Toady Explosion
11. The Rescue
12. Another Call
13. The Hounds
14. Sacrifice
15. The Potion
16. Caught
17. Probation
18. All Clear
Epilogue
Extras
Review
Acknowledgments
About the Author
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Brushes used in cover art provided by Obsidian Dawn www.obsidiandawn.com
Editor: Nancy Pile of zoowrite.com
Copyright © 2018 Charmed Embers Publications All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
www.charmed-embers-publications.com
For orders, please email: [email protected]
To Ginger—
Thanks for putting up with me,
laughing at my goofy story antics, and
for being my rock.
It is our choices . . . that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.
—J. K. Rowling
Prologue
“Helga, sweetie, get up.”
Her mother gently rubs the small eight-year-old’s shoulder trying to wake her. She tries again, leaning in, and whispers in Helga’s ear, “Come on, baby, we have to go.”
Helga turns over pulling a blanket over her head. Heavy footsteps enter the room, then stop nearby the bed. Her father lets out an exasperated sigh. Helga knows what’s going on: their family is moving . . . again. They always go during the night, leaving all of their things behind.
She lays there pretending to sleep as her mother whispers to her father, “She won’t get up, Jacob. Do we have to leave tonight? Can’t we stay one more day?”
In a deep but gentle voice her father replies, “No, Miranda, we can’t. You know what they’ll do to us if we’re caught.”
“But Helga hasn’t even said bye to her friends,” her mother answers, holding back her tears.
Her father stays silent and then finally says, “Let me.”
The warmth of her father’s hands and arms lift the tiny eight-year-old body out of bed. Helga clings to her blanket hoping that she can at least keep it. She can feel her mother readjust the blanket as her dad’s footsteps begin again, exiting her room. Helga continues to keep her eyes shut hoping that she is dreaming and that they are not truly moving again.
In the distance she hears her two older sisters bickering.
“That’s not your wand, Agnes!” Ursa, the second eldest sister, who is 11, shouts.
“Hey, it is now,” Agnes, the eldest at 17, yells back. “Why can’t I have a spatula as a wand?”
“It’s weird,” Ursa replies, “That’s why. I will just die if I’m seen with a weird sister in our new home.”
“Pfft, always worried what others think of you,” Agnes snaps back, “It’s not what others think that counts, you know.”
“Girls, girls, enough already,” their father intervenes.
Upon realizing she’s not dreaming, Helga curls up more tightly in her father’s arms. They are moving—again. A small sob escapes her lips as her father gently rocks her, offering in a deep soothing voice, “Shh, shh, little one. Everything is going to be fine. I promise.”
Drawers in another room bang closed as her mother calls out, “Girls, did you get what you need? This is your last chance.”
Ursa’s hurried footsteps rush off down the hall and then come back. “YES,” she bellows.
“Good,” their father answers, “we better get moving.”
Helga can feel her father move again through the house and out the front door. His heavy steps creak on the wooden stairs of the porch as he makes his way down to the running car.
The cool night air bites at her nose making Helga blink her eyes open. The night sky is clear with sparkling stars and the full moon shining down on them. The chirping crickets put Helga at ease.
Helga sees her mom chase her sisters out of the house as she turns to close and lock the door one last time. Agnes snatches the mirror out of Ursa’s hands as she runs down the wooden steps with Ursa in pursuit yelling, “Give it back!”
Agnes runs around taunting Ursa with the mirror shouting, “Toro, toro!”
“I’m not a bull!” Ursa shouts back.
“Really?” Agnes chuckles as she leaps aside from Ursa’s charge, “Then why do you like to bull-y everyone around then?”
“DAAAAAD,” Ursa cries.
“Agnes,” their father calls out, “give your sister back her mirror, and can you give me a hand here?”
Agnes releases a heavy sigh but hands Ursa her mirror back. She hustles over to the car to give her dad assistance. “What do you need, pops?”
He eyes her. “Knock it off, I don’t have time for your nonsense tonight. Open the door, please.”
“Sure thing daddy-o,” answers Agnes, giving him the thumbs up before opening the door to the backseat of the car.
He places Helga in the car and then closes the door. He stands up and looks around for the other sister, Ursa, who is by the garden yanking up the daffodils. Snapping his fingers, he shouts, “Ursa, come on, we don’t have much time. Get in the car.”
“Where?” she whines, “Helga’s hogging the backseat.”
He points to the passenger seat in the front, “Tonight, little bit, you get to sit upfront.”
“Really?” She perks up. “I really get to sit upfront tonight? Awesome.”
Agnes, realizing that something is not right, asks, “Wait, if she gets to sit upfront, then where am I supposed to sit? What about you and mom?”
Their mother slides in by their father holding two brooms in her hand. She hands one to their father as she says, “Your dad and I are going to be flying to our new home, honey. You’ll be driving the car tonight.”
Agnes’s eyes bulge. Then she sputters, “Wait, I can’t drive. I don’t know where we’re moving to . . .”
“Your father bewitched the car. It knows where you need to go. You’ll be safe, and we won’t be far behind, honey.”
Ursa moans as tears threaten to fall at any moment, “Mommy? Daddy? You’re not coming with us?”
“No, sweetie, we have to do the move differently this time. Bad people are coming after us,” their mom explains while moving a strand of Ursa’s hair behind her ear.
“But . . . But . . . We’ve always moved together,” she sobs.
“Not this time, sweetheart,” their mom tries to console Ursa.
Helga bursts out crying, kicking her feet against the door panel. “Nooo, I don’t want you and daddy to leave . . .”
&n
bsp; Their mom worries her lips unsure of what to say next when their father steps in. “Girls, I know this is scary, but we need to do it this way for your own safety. Your mom and I love you very much and don’t want you to be in any danger. This is why we have to do it this way.”
Agnes mumbles, “You will meet us at the new home, right?”
“Of course,” he replies, ushering Agnes into the car and sliding the window down. “You remember all the driving lessons that I gave you?”
“Yeah, dad, I do,” she replies closing the car door.
“Good.” He leans in and kisses her on the head. “Take care of your sisters.”
“Honey, they’re here,” their mom says with a tight voice as she points up to the night sky where figures are flying above their house in a circular formation.
Jacob glances up at the figures. They start descending upon the house. His mouth, becoming a firm, hard line, shouts to Agnes, “Go, now! Go!”
Feeling the sudden tension, Agnes fumbles with the car’s gear, accidentally putting it into neutral, making it roar when she stomps on the gas.
Ursa and Helga scream out, “MOMMY!” as Agnes tries to regain control of her nerves. She lifts her foot up and with a shaky hand quickly moves the gear into reverse and stomps back on the gas. The wheels on the car squeal as it rushes backwards out of the dirt driveway leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.
The last thing the girls see are their parent pulling out their wands in preparation for battle with the unwelcomed visitors.
Miranda glances back at the road hoping to get one last glimpse of her babies when she hears the telltale thump of their visitors landing in their yard in the shadow of the great oak tree.
Jacob steps close to her and intertwines his hands into hers and whispers, “This is it, honey. We knew this day would come.”
The two stare at the intruders as one steps forward out of the shadow. The man, around 5’9, dressed in dark grey, pulls off his grey gloves, one finger at a time as he continues to walk towards the couple.
Miranda gives a sigh of relief, “Oh, it is you, Agent Cornelius.”
“Yes,” he replies, “we don’t have much time, I’m afraid.”
“Huh?” Miranda asks.
“We were followed,” Cornelius continues, “I have word that a troop of TRUE are on their way.”
“What?” Jacob demands through clenched teeth.
Holding his hand up, Cornelius tries to appease the rising tension as Jacob’s wand begins to alight near the tip with power. “I did my best to keep this quiet, but someone, a spy from within our ranks, must have let it slip.”
Jacob rushes Cornelius grabbing ahold of the inspector’s coat and holding the wand to his cheek. In response the other inspectors pull out their wands ready to return fire.
“You promised us that we’d be safe. That no one would know. How can we trust that our daughters will be safe?” Jacob seethes.
Cornelius waves his hands down, indicating that the other agents lower their wands. “I did not know there was a rat amongst my team until it was too late. But your daughters will still be safe. I will personally see to it.”
Jacob releases Cornelius and takes a step back.
Miranda asks, “What about Helga? Our youngest? She’s the one that Lady Ava wants the most.”
“Helga will be fine,” Cornelius assures her.
Jacob lashes back, “Your word is waning fast in my book. I am starting to regret my decision to trust the Order of Magic.”
“Honey,” Miranda begins, “think of our daughters. Without us in the picture they can grow up with near-normal lives—not needing to move every other month because we’re on the run from the TRUE society. You know what Lady Ava does to traitors . . .”
Jacob sighs, “We could have kept going . . .”
“No, it’s not the life our daughters deserve.”
“How can we continue to trust the Order? When we know that there are spies?”
“Faith, we just have to have faith.”
“I don’t know . . .” he relents.
“Darling, our little one, Helga,” Miranda says with a catch in her throat, “she’ll be safe from Lady Ava’s clutches. She won’t be doomed to live the path of evil because of our sacrifice.”
Cornelius arches an eyebrow. “Yes, Miranda is right. By turning yourselves in, your daughters, including Helga, will have a better chance of leading a life on the right path.”
Another agent approaches, this man a head taller than Cornelius and dressed in black. He reports, “Sir, I got word that they’re close. We need to get moving now if we expect to escape without a fight.”
Cornelius nods his head. “Thank you, Agent Brimstone.”
Miranda gasps taking a step back from the group. Jacob blinks as his heartbeat picks up upon hearing Brimstone’s name. He looks over at the agent in time to see his eyes flash gold. Jacob and Miranda bring their wands back out, ready to do battle.
Looking between his agent, who was also pulling a wand out, the other two agents moving out from under the tree with their wands glowing and the couple, Cornelius responds between gritted teeth, “Crap.”
“Flare-lazarious,” Jacob shouts flinging his wand towards Brimstone as a column of flames in a whip-like lash comes barreling out the wand’s other end. Cornelius tumbles to the ground to avoid the flame lash. The other agents start to fire spells at Cornelius and the couple.
Brimstone’s figure turns darker as his form turns more demonic with each step he takes towards Miranda.
Jacob tosses his chin towards the brooms on the ground behind him, shouting, “Miranda, get out of here! Go!”
“I can’t leave you,” she starts but gets interrupted by a wind spell slung by Brimstone. The roaring wind lashes through her shoulder making her drop her wand as she falls backwards to the ground.
Brimstone moves closer to her, all the while preparing the launch of his next spell.
“MIRANDA!” Jacob shouts, dodging yet another fireball heaved at him by one of the double agents.
Cornelius rolls about on the ground avoiding the various spells being thrust at him by his team.
He finally gets to Jacob and stands up, putting his back to Jacob’s. He declares, “We’re outnumbered. If we don’t leave, we’re going to be sunk.”
“I won’t leave my wife,” Jacob retorts in a strained voice.
“She’s lost. We have to leave, now,” Cornelius urges.
“Jacob!” Miranda calls out reaching for him as she lies on the ground.
Jacob looks over at her to see Brimstone who pauses a moment to grin wickedly and then unhinges his jaw, like a snake, to swoop down and devour her whole.
“MIRANDA!” he wails as his knuckles crack clenching his wand so tightly it breaks it into pieces. His nostrils flare as he exhales and stares Brimstone down. Brimstone stares back still beaming with his sharp teeth showing. The double agents fall in line behind him and begin to close in on the two.
“You killed my wife, you, you,” utters Jacob gnashing his teeth. The power in his hands gathers, and the heat becoming hotter and hotter as Jacob continues to pull from his anger. Cornelius, feeling the intense heat, knows that Jacob is priming to release a rather dangerous spell—one so powerful that it will take out everyone there, including Jacob.
He turns around yanking on Jacob’s shoulders, begging, “You can’t do anything. We have to go now!”
Jacob shrugs Cornelius off of him, declaring, “You go. I have to take care of him.”
Cornelius narrows his eyes and tries again. “It’s not worth your life. Think of your girls. What about them?”
Jacob blinks for a few seconds and then shakes his head. “No, as long as he, Lady Ava’s demon, is around, my girls are not safe. I must take him down.”
With one last look at Jacob, who is staring at Brimstone with hate in his eyes, Cornelius somersaults towards the brooms. Jacob is too far gone to reason with, and Cornelius is not going to stay and get killed
.
His ex-agents sling attack spells after him. Cornelius snatches a broom, barely sidestepping an attack spell that would have taken his leg. Kicking off with the broom and nearly colliding with another fire-lash spell, Cornelius makes his escape.
The ground beneath begins to rumble and birds start to fly as he hears Jacob release a full blitz spell, “Sunfire blast!”
Cornelius urges the broom to move faster as a large dome of flame expands from the ground. His ex-agents scream out as everything around the blast becomes engulfed in the life-consuming inferno.
The blast’s scalding heat roars towards Cornelius. He grips the broom’s handle tightly, grits his teeth, and shuts his eyes, as a glowing tornado attempts to fling him from the tumbling broom.
Once the wind subsides, Cornelius, still aloft and grasping the broom handle, blinks his eyes open. He stares down at the large crater created by the blast. He sees nothing. No one.
His ex-agents and Jacob, Miranda, and Brimstone are all gone.
His shoulders droop as he thinks of Jacob and Miranda’s children who are expecting their parents to rejoin them at the new house.
It will never happen.
With a heavy heart, Cornelius decides, “Jacob and Miranda’s deaths will not be in vain.”
He turns his broom in the direction of headquarters, thinking, “The girls will need someone to shelter them from the ongoing war between the Order of Magic and the TRUE society. Perhaps that someone is me.”
1
Sneaking Out
Taking one step at a time, inching down the stairs of their home and cafe, Helga, age 15, cringes as one of the steps creaks under her weight. She looks back up the stairs, sweating and straining to hear any signs that someone may have heard her sneaking out. Satisfied she continues tiptoeing down the last few steps.
Potion of the Hound: Mystical Mishaps Series Book 1 Page 1