Muddled Mutt

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Muddled Mutt Page 13

by Willow Mason


  Wallace put a hand on my shoulder and offered a tired smile. “This is group justice, not individual justice. We can’t separate out the wrongful actions of one coven and ignore the contribution from the other side. If you want a better outcome in the future, I suggest you work more closely with the members of your coven so they’re not as willing to sell you out.”

  “That’s your idea of justice?”

  “Yes.” His eyes were steady as he stared into mine. “I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear.”

  “You’re not going far enough back.” Glynda stepped forwards and the cords on her neck stood out like they were forged from steel. She grabbed hold of Wallace’s hands and placed them on her head. “You need to travel back to before this young woman was born. You must view the wrongs visited upon her mother.”

  “There’s no need,” Wallace said, jerking his hands away. “I’ve seen everything. You sanctioned him at the time by taking away his black magic. Since you already took matters into your own hands, I must leave it there.”

  Glynda turned to the coven. “He used a binding spell. There was no free will involved in their relationship. This is an abomination of the natural order and no coven in the country would stand by and let him continue to use such powers!” Glynda broke off, panting from the exertion of her heartfelt speech. “My only regret is I couldn’t stop him sooner.”

  “Not your only regret,” Wallace said, tucking his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his ceremonial robe. “Speak the whole truth or speak nothing at all.”

  Glynda turned my way with tears in her eyes. “My hatred for this man spilt over in resentment of his abandoned child. I have punished her for the sins of her father. It was foolish of me not to see she wasn’t tainted by his lineage but instead grew to be her own person—powerful, astonishing, and acting in ways that make me want to tear my hair out at the same time.”

  “If you wish us to revisit your earlier decision, then you must step down as leader of the coven,” Wallace said in an even tone. “There will be no chance to appeal once we’ve spoken our ruling.”

  “No,” I said, tugging Glynda’s arm. “We can find another way to fix Beezley and Brianna.”

  “This is nothing to do with them,” Glynda said, stroking the side of my cheek. “I took away your magic once without good reason. I’m not prepared to leave you without it again.” She faced Wallace, openly crying now, and nodded. “Please rule.”

  “On the charge of using a binding spell to force affection, I find you guilty.” Wallace grasped my father’s hand and held firm as he tried to jerk away. “Your magic is forfeit. The spells may return to their rightful owner, forthwith.”

  Nothing happened, and I glanced at Marlon. “Didn’t you say black magic can’t be taken unless the witch agrees?”

  My voice was barely a whisper, but he heard and answered, “All magic users are bound to the rulings of the supernatural council, will or no will. If he doesn’t relinquish the magic, he’ll die.”

  “And maybe I’d rather do that!” My father glared at the pair of us. “I can’t believe I’m in this situation because of a familiar’s terrible judgement.” He directed his rage at Aloysius. “You’re the cause of all this trouble. Why on earth couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

  “I live to serve you, Sire.”

  “Then stop living!” My father raised his hand and clicked his fingers and… nothing happened.

  Wallace held his hands cupped together as he walked towards me. “Here you go. The magic forfeit from you father becomes your rightful inheritance. Enjoy.”

  The spells flew into my body and filled up its empty spaces, singing joyously. A crimson glow sparked from my fingertips, joined by pink, then green.

  “This is more,” I said in wonder.

  “It’s all his magic. Once you break the honours code, you forfeit. If your supreme had brought this matter to our attention when she should have, you would’ve inherited this as your rightful legacy when you turned eighteen. It is done.”

  With a sweep of his robes, Wallace disappeared. The two remaining council members bowed to the coven and were gone, leaving us alone.

  Judged and sentenced.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I don’t know how to thank you,” I said to Glynda, pulling her into a hug. “This means the world to me.”

  “Just don’t give them up again, no matter what.” Her voice was crisp, and her eyes were wet as she pulled away.

  My father and Aloysius continued to bicker as Marlon stepped forward, his expression regretful. “I didn’t mean to make the situation worse,” he said in a halting voice. “It would be my honour to restore your companions back to their previous state.”

  Glynda took his hands and nodded. “That would be appreciated by every member of our coven.”

  Beezley appeared confused but willingly moved when Marlon motioned him forward. Brianna joined them with arms folded tightly across her chest. “I don’t see why I can’t have my legs back and still live out a normal life.”

  “Because you don’t deserve it,” Marlon said in a gentle voice. “Now hush, or I’ll leave you as you are.”

  The green glow swirled around the pair, completing subsuming them inside its colourful cloud. After a minute, Marlon stepped back, the smoke dissipated, and a mermaid and a French bulldog stared at each other, each disappointed.

  “Ha!” Aloysius crowed, hugging himself with glee. “None of you gets what you wanted. Perfect.”

  I stared down at my hand again and the swirl of colours. Black magic was too powerful for this situation. Crimson was out. Pink I didn’t even know about and today wasn’t a place for trials.

  Green. I glanced over at Marlon, trying to remember his energy and how he’d encompassed his subjects with the glow. “Porangi,” I called out, and the chihuahua scampered over, his tongue poking out and his eyes staring in slightly different directions.

  “Before you go, I’d like to try a trick,” I said to Aloysius. “Since your sire doesn’t appreciate your human assistance, perhaps you should fulfil a different role.”

  The green spun out towards Aloysius and Porangi. Its song directed me through each step, leading me to follow a trail of magic breadcrumbs that wouldn’t lead me astray.

  This wasn’t like the white magic where I had to concentrate all my effort for small rewards. It wasn’t like the crimson magic where I felt it had more control than I did.

  Green was a partnership. A strong force but not so rigid it wouldn’t bend itself to my will. The colour swirled around the pair, turning opaque, then blowing apart as though a stiff breeze had swept it away.

  Aloysius stood and stared at me through confused eyes, his tongue hanging from his mouth. I’m sure if he’d been able to speak, he would have been upset, but the most he managed was a series of annoyed yaps.

  “Porangi.” I grabbed hold of his new human hands and swung him in a circle as though we were children. “That’s you in there, isn’t it?”

  “It’s me,” the muddled mutt said with Aloysius’s mouth before he stared in wonder at Aloysius’s hands.

  “You swapped them? Familiar to familiar.” Glynda laughed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s glorious.” She turned to my father. “Now, get out of here before a worse fate befalls you or your pet.”

  She snapped her fingers—not able to make him disappear as Wallace could but with enough magic to fetch the man and his dog a broom.

  “I said this to you last time, but it bears repeating. Don’t come back here. Ever. You’re not welcome.”

  With the rest of the coven crowding behind her in support, my father didn’t argue. He popped the newly chihuahua-ed familiar on the pointy end of the broom and Glynda catapulted him into the sky.

  “It would be a terrible thing if I’d miscalculated,” she said with a note of mischief in her voice. “Could you imagine if my travel magic only got them halfway home?”

  Lucinda carried Brianna in her arms as
she approached us. “My daughter isn’t in the right mood to say this but thank you.”

  Marlon inclined his head, saying nothing while Binky foraged a mouthful of juicy cress from the ground.

  “Yeah,” Brianna muttered under her breath. “Thanks for nothing.”

  “Until we appoint a new supreme,” Glynda said, putting a hand on Brianna’s arm. “Then I’ll continue to dispense the duties of the office, as needed. You mightn’t feel up to the task at the moment, but on behalf of Fernwood Gully, I’d like to extend the offer to perform the role of mermaid parade for our town, for as long as you like.”

  Brianna buried her face into her mother’s chest, but Lucinda gave Glynda a grateful smile. “We’ll talk,” she promised before escorting her daughter along the path.

  “I should get going, too,” Glynda said, giving me another hug. “With all the changes coming, I need to set my old office in order. I don’t mind being booted out of the supremeship but I’d hate to leave behind a messy desk.”

  My throat clutched at her sacrifice but I just dumbly nodded. I didn’t trust myself to say anything that wouldn’t lessen the honour of her gift.

  In dribs and drabs, the rest of the coven took their leave of the circle, chattering all the way. This would be a spectacle to fuel the town gossips for years to come. Beezley sat in the spot where he’d resumed his form, not moving, not barking, not showing interest in anything at all.

  “Hey, boy,” I said, holding my hand out for him to sniff as I ventured near. “Do you remember me?”

  His sad eyes stared at me forlornly and I felt like weeping. It was obvious from his apathy the reverse transformation had stunned him. Without his memory of what had come before, he wouldn’t understand. He’d have to learn to live as a dog all over again.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t so more,” Marlon said, sitting nearby with Binky on his lap. “His memory was nothing to do with me so I can’t reverse that part of the spell.”

  “I understand. You’re not to blame.” I gave the man’s hand a squeeze, then let it go and sighed. “It doesn’t make this any easier.”

  My hands were glowing pink, a strange colour with a strange tune accompanying the spell. I should get in touch with Trevor as soon as possible. If anyone knew what to do with all these different shades of magic, it would be him.

  Marlon laughed. “I can hear them singing from over here. Why don’t you just let them out to do what they want to do?”

  “Once upon a time, I did that, and a hotel fell on my head.”

  He held up his hands, indicating the trees and rustling branches overhead. “No hotels around here.”

  No. Nothing but nature and a new song who desperately wanted to be heard. Beezley put a paw on my knee and whined.

  “Okay. Here goes nothing, buddy.”

  The magic trickled off my fingers, rising to a surge that swept in a joyful harmony around the French bulldog’s head. A choir of different voices, pushing and pulling the melody until it swept into silence, only to start again.

  I added my voice to the chorus, no words, just a trail of notes that harmonised with the spells surrounding Beezley. When I inhaled, the pink magic trilled, then rushed into my mouth, tucking itself away in my belly.

  “Was that meant to happen?”

  Marlon shrugged. “Sometimes, what will be will be and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  The sentiment didn’t sit right with me.

  Beezley sneezed and put a paw to his eye, dancing a step to the side. “What on earth has been going on around here? My head’s banging like a drum.”

  I laughed and clapped a hand over my mouth when he sent a sour expression my way. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, you should be.” He sniffed at Marlon’s boots, then poked at Binky’s thick shell. “Weren’t you meant to be changing me back into a human?”

  “It didn’t work,” I said before Marlon could get a word in. “If he’d done the exchange, you’d be stuck with the life span of a… well, what you are now. By leaving you as a French bulldog, you’ll have full human longevity.”

  “Cursed to be a dog forever, eh?” Beezley sneezed again. “What’ve I been sniffing? It feels like my nostrils are on fire.”

  “How about we get you home and put you in the bath? Once you clean yourself off, I’m sure you’ll feel a thousand times better.” I looked back at Marlon. “Are you okay to get home again? The council could at least have dropped you back where you belong.”

  “I’m good. I know where the bus stop is now, so I’ll soon be out of your hair.”

  “You’re welcome to stay overnight with us if you want.” After just one day shut out of Beezley’s affections, it seemed strange to offer, but what a dog didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Speaking of which… “Although, on second thoughts, the sofa might be a bit damp. Harriet can put you up again, though, or arrange for a broom.”

  I was about to curse black magic for being the non-user-friendly form, then bit my tongue. With the spells only just back in my body, singing happily, I didn’t want to disparage them. I’d give them a week or two to readjust before I tried that.

  “Honestly, the bus is lovely. At this time of night, it’ll be half-empty, and I can doze in the back until we arrive at the other end.”

  “Can I take you up on the offer?” Porangi asked as Marlon slowly walked away, holding Binky in his arms. “Now I’m in my new form, I’ll need somewhere to stay.”

  He patted down his new body, turning this way and that as he admired the new behind.

  “As long as you remember how you left it the last time and help us clean up.”

  “Oh, right!” Porangi snapped his fingers. “Honestly, I’ve been trying over and over to get you to follow me to Santa’s workshop and you kept not doing it. I was starting to think your mind was completely blown apart from being held captive.”

  “Santa’s workshop?”

  “Okay, if you insist, I’ll call it Archie’s shed but we both know it means the exact same thing. I was terrified not only that he’d died but all the love he poured into the gifts he made over the past year would moulder away to nothing in a locked greenhouse.”

  Porangi grabbed hold of my arm and dragged me through the woods, Beezley following hot on our heels. “I thought I was the one with a traumatic brain injury but the way you couldn’t follow a simple pattern, it left me with genuine concerns for how your mind functions.”

  “What pattern?”

  “I do something naughty and you chase me.” Porangi stopped for a moment, planting his hands on his hips. “It’s the only way I could think to lead you to Archie’s body. The poor man didn’t have many friends and the word around town was you were good at listening to dogs.”

  Beezley bristled. “Hey, mate. Watch who you’re calling a dog.”

  “Then, even after I got you to do it that first time, I couldn’t get you to follow me again. I was becoming quite frantic.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You pulled a sprinkler into my home and destroyed it just to get me to chase you?”

  Beezley’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait. What?”

  “Can you think of a better plan? Considering I’m a small dog who’s lost his ability to speak to witches? If I knew how to communicate, I’d still be bonded as a familiar instead of cast out of your society altogether.”

  “Sorry about that. Grace Jeddens is an ungrateful witch.” I trailed along behind as Porangi jogged back to the roadside. “Didn’t you enjoy being with Archie?”

  “Yes. He was a lovely foster Daddy after I was spurned by the coven. Who doesn’t want Santa for their dad?”

  Beezley’s set of keys had disappeared along with his trousers but I had a spare set in a magnet case under the chassis.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Beezley whispered, putting a paw over his eyes.

  “Down this road, turn left,” Porangi instructed, bouncing on the passenger seat with excitement. “Take another left up ahead, then strai
ght on until you hit the end of the road, and we’ll travel the rest by foot.”

  We ended up at an allotment where a communal garden burgeoned with summer vegetables and berries. At the end of a muddy field, sat a large shed with a well-trodden path to the door. “He kept the keys in a fake rock,” Porangi said, squatting down and sniffing deeply. “These noses you have are useless for smelling things out.”

  “But luckily we have hands,” I said, picking up and discarding a few real stones before the fake one revealed itself. “Here we go.”

  When I opened the door, the gathering gloom of late evening dissipated in a vibrant display of colour, flashy metal, and wood carved with loving hands.

  “It’s like a Christmas miracle,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears of joy. “Thank you for leading us here.”

  I picked up Beezley and linked arms with Porangi, staring in wonderment at the bounty inside.

  At last, Christmas had wrought its magic in a spirit of love and giving that even death couldn’t destroy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Wow.” I stepped back in wonder as Glynda joined us in the beachside carpark. “You look fantastic!”

  She primped her hair a little, tucking a stray strand caught by the wind back into the elaborate beehive and wrinkling her nose at the compliment. “Thank you. I could put it down to good genes or healthy living, but I believe it’s finally losing the constant strain of being a responsible person. Not being supreme is really growing on me.”

  “Porangi,” Harriet squealed with far more enthusiasm than I’d expect from their short acquaintance. She hurried over and pulled him into a bearhug while Glynda looked on with a bemused expression. “It’s so good to see you.”

  I stepped back and examined the man with fresh eyes. Since his mind was no longer encased in an injured brain, Porangi had proven to be a delight. He was quick-witted with an engrained kindness that was refreshing to witness.

  Aloysius had made the same body appear weaselly and repulsive but Porangi wore it like the world’s most expensive tailored suit. A sight for sore eyes.

 

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