“She’s not dead and she’s not a ghost. Cookie Witch is old, gray and she limps, but she’s very much alive. And she lives in a cookie house—hence the name,” I said, watching closely for Baba’s reaction.
“She lives in a cookie house?” Baba asked with what I could have sworn was a small smile pulling at her lips, but it disappeared quickly.
“Yes and I ate part of it,” I admitted.
“You ate Marge’s house and lived to tell?” she demanded, gaping at me.
“Do I look dead to you?” I snapped, clearly coming unhinged since I couldn’t stop back- talking the leader of all witches. I didn’t care. I was pregnant and there was a problem. Bringing puppies into the world had either made me more fearless or more unbalanced—I preferred to think fearless. Fixing the problem so the world would be right for my children was my main focus. I needed to solve it more than I needed to kiss Baba Yobossy’s ass. Plus I was getting tired of being judged for eating a house. “And I didn’t eat the whole thing—only the door, window sill, and a portion of the chimney. However, I did threaten to eat the whole thing if she called you anymore names.”
“I don’t believe it’s her,” Baba Yaga said. “However, I find your defense of me lovely and somewhat appalling. You’d actually eat an entire house?”
“I’d try.”
“I’d lay money she could eat two houses,” Jango Fett chimed in. “With them buns in the oven, she’s a fracking eatin’ machine.”
“I’d bet on three—depending on the size. Was the house one story or two?” Fat Bastard inquired.
“One,” Fabio volunteered, sitting on his hands and looking slightly constipated.
I could tell my gambling addicted father was trying his very best not to get in on the wager. It was a good move since I was ready to try out my iffy magic on the next person who felt the need to expound on my house eating.
“Enough,” Mac growled. “One more word about Zelda’s voracious and alarming appetite and the offender will lose an appendage.”
“Thank you, babe… I think,” I told Mac.
“No decapitation inside the house,” Baba Yaga warned. “I’m not sure Zelda can heal anyone at the moment with the magic being so low. None of you people with a penis can understand what it’s like to be pregnant. Only women can. So any more cracks and I’ll adjust your plumbing so you’ll understand what a trial being female can be.”
“You’re a mother?” I asked surprised. Certainly I would have known if Baba Yaga had children. Wouldn’t I?
“No, darling, not yet. But your father and I are working on it.”
“Oh my Goddess,” I shrieked. “You’ve just added several more decades of therapy to my schedule. Roger’s going to shit.”
“I’d love to have a little me,” she went on completely oblivious to the wide-eyed shock of everyone in the room—including my dad. “I’d whip up the cutest little matching outfit for us!”
“Um… while that’s somewhat nightmare inducing, maybe we should deal with the Marge issue first,” I offered trying to block out the visual of a baby dressed like Madonna, circa 1985.
“I still don’t think it’s the same Marge,” Baba said, thankfully moving on from any conversation that conjured up visuals in my brain of her and my dad even remotely naked.
She sat down at the table and ran her hands through her hair. However, her fingers got stuck in her rock hard bangs and she had to use a little magic to remove them without tearing her bangs clean off of her head. The most amazing thing was that she was still breathtakingly gorgeous with her awful hair and heinous get up.
“I don’t know if it’s the same Marge you and Fabdudio are referring to and I don’t care. I believe she’s the key to the lack of magic and I’m going back. Period.”
“What exactly did she call me?”
“A royal back-stabbing skank hole.”
Baba’s laugh was not a happy one. Mac’s and my kitchen table now sported an enormous charred hole right smack in the center due to Baba’s fury. She jumped to her feet, pulled me out of my chair, and yanked the queso-covered banana I’d just created out of my hands.
“It’s definitely Marge. No one is stupid enough to insult me like that except that obnoxious old ass monkey. You’re going to pay her a visit and I’m coming along for the ride,” she hissed as a rainbow of sparkles hovered menacingly around her body. “That nut job has some explaining to do.”
Baba stomped out of the house, swearing and mumbling. The cats were wildly amused and excited by the turn of events, but not Mac and my dad.
“This is a very bad idea,” Mac said, grabbing a coat for me and helping me into it. “I’m coming too and I’m not hiding in the woods this time.”
I nodded silently and absently rubbed my stomach. I didn’t know if I was comforting my unborn children or myself. The day had started off odd and now was quickly careening into something dangerous and potentially deadly.
“I’m going as well,” Fabio said. “You and Carol are powerful, but if it’s really Marge… she’s industrial strength.”
“Shit,” I muttered, quickly making my way to the door.
“Youse said it, Sweet Cheeks,” Fat Bastard grunted, with a grim expression—more serious than I’d ever seen my obese cat look.
“Are we ready?” I asked my nearest and dearest.
“Do we have a choice?” Fabio replied with a worried shrug.
“Nope. Let’s do it.”
And we did.
Chapter Twelve
“Explain to me again why we’re driving?” Baba complained as she channel-surfed the radio for an eighties station.
“Because there are four people and three fat cats on this field trip to hell. No one has enough magic at the moment to poof us to the berry patch without the risk of someone ending up wedged in a black hole somewhere,” I explained for the third time in ten minutes. She was worse than a child and if she asked “Are we there yet?” one more time, I was going to put her out of the car.
“Right,” Baba said. “This is just so mundane. I’m not used to this human mode of travel—very time consuming.”
“Well, if we don’t figure out what the magic drain is, we’ll all be traveling like this from now on,” I said.
That certainly shut everyone up for a blessedly quiet three minutes.
Mac held me close and my cats were curled up all around me—thankfully on a grooming break. Fabio drove and Baba bitched—one big extremely weird and debatably happy family.
“Are we there yet?” Baba Yaga asked, bouncing up and down to an A Flock of Seagulls song that sadly was going to be stuck in my brain for weeks.
“Almost, my love,” Fabio answered. “The berry patch is a wrinkle in time—a bit difficult to find.”
“I’m sorry, did you say wrinkle?” Baba shouted, turning off the radio and shuddering.
“The Shifters said it was a wrinkle,” I told her. “I think Cookie Witch has just spelled it or placed heavy wards.”
“Can this place be found on a map?” Baba demanded in her scary all business tone.
“Nope,” Mac replied. “It doesn’t exist.”
“How long has it been there?” she further questioned.
“I’ve known of it for about fifty years,” Mac said. “Don’t know how long it existed before that.”
“Is it bad if it’s a wrinkle in time?” I asked, sitting up and leaning over the seat.
“No, not necessarily,” Baba said thoughtfully. “It just means it’s definitely Marge. It’s one of her gifts. She’s a Creator Witch—like me.”
“What in the Goddess’s name is happening?” Fabio hissed as the car lost power and rolled to a slow stop at the outer edge of the berry patch. “Car’s dead.”
He turned the ignition several times with no luck. Everyone hopped out and stood at the end of the path that led to the magical area. Power vibrated off the perimeter of the patch and the beauty was astounding.
“Interesting,” Baba purred, reappl
ying her lipstick and peeking under the hood of the car.
“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” I asked her trying not to laugh.
“No clue darling, but it seems like the reasonable thing to do,” she replied with a wink.
“It’s fine,” Mac said as he examined the engine. “No fault with the car. It’s the magic.”
“Awesome. We’re going in on foot,” I griped.
And so we did—kind of.
“Stand the fark back,” Jango Fett grunted as he and my other two cats prepared themselves to be the first in.
Of course preparing meant grabbing their little kitty nuts and doing something akin to a profane version of the Haka. It was every kind of wrong. My dad shook his head and checked his watch while Mac just groaned and stared up at the sky.
“Is this really necessary?” Baba Yaga asked, wincing as my feline dumbasses all racked each other to determine who was the manliest—or stupidest.
“No, but it’s kind of alarmingly funny,” I replied. “Since I’ve been pregnant, they feel the need to protect me more.”
“And this is how they do it?” she inquired with arched brows and an appalled expression on her lovely face.
“Um… yes. Just be thankful it’s only an audience of four. At the town potluck two weeks ago, this went on for an hour.”
“Lovely,” Baba Yaga replied dryly.
“Follow us,” Jango instructed as he and his two idiot counterparts sprinted toward the entrance of the berry patch.
However, they didn’t get far.
“What in the farking voodoo loving hell was that?” Fat Bastard shouted as he flew back through the air and landed in a pissed off heap at my feet.
“Oh my Goddess,” I said as I picked up my furry tub of lard and checked him for injury.
“We gots a problem here,” Fat Bastard announced after trying three more times to enter the patch and getting violently thrown back with each attempt. “Looks like the Hookie Glitch don’t want no visitors today.”
“It’s warded,” Fabio said, making symbols in the air to test the strength of the spell.” And it’s a doozy.”
“I can’t walk through it,” Mac said in frustration as he pressed his hands against the ward.
“I could pee on it,” Fat Bastard offered.
“Would that help?” I asked, confused.
“Nope, but it would be satisfying,” he explained.
“Oh for the Goddess’s sake,” Baba Yaga groused. “Out of my way.”
She marched forward and walked right through the ward that held Mac, Dad, and the cats out.
“Come along Zelda,” she insisted.
“Wait,” Mac shouted as I approached the invisible wall that Baba Yonotscaredofanything had just traipsed through.
Mac took me by the shoulders and kissed me so hard that my head spun and my knees wobbled. My big strong wolf seemed unsure and pissed.
“I want to tell you not to go in there,” he ground out, holding on to his cool by a thread. His beautiful eyes searched mine and I felt his fear. “My instincts are to pick you up, throw you in the car and leave… but I won’t. It’s killing me, but I won’t.”
“Car don’t work anyways,” Fat Bastard offered, waddling over and wedging his round body in between us. “If youse are gonna do it, I’d suggest shifting to your wolf and we’s could strap her to your back. And if she don’t like it, we’s can sit on her.”
“I’m in,” Jango Fett said.
“I’d be happy to ride Zelda,” Boba Fett added.
“Shut it,” Mac growled at the ever unhelpful cats, and then turned his focus back to me. “I will never stop you from what you have to do, but it doesn’t mean I’ll like it.” He approached the edge of the ward and pointed at Baba Yaga. “How do you know Zelda can enter? Can you guarantee her safety and that of our children?” he demanded tightly.
“I can,” she snapped. “Put your finger down, wolf. Remember to whom you’re growling at. Zelda is the future Baba Yaga. No ward can hold us—it’s a perk. And yes, the babies will be fine.”
“You know this how?” Mac shot back, uncaring that little sparks of displeasure were wafting around Baba.
She rolled her eyes and stomped around for a bit. Clearly Carol wasn’t used to being questioned or distrusted. “Only because you love her to the exclusion of common sense will I overlook your insolent behavior. Never would I lead one of mine into danger knowingly.”
“And if you didn’t know?” he prodded.
“Then I wouldn’t do it,” she hissed. “Not that I have to explain myself… but you have my word and the Goddess’s that Zelda and your unborn children can pass the ward unharmed. Happy now?” she shouted.
“No, but I’m relieved,” he replied coolly.
“Carol’s correct,” I whispered to the man who had my back in a way I’d never experienced. His bravery—or foolishness—at going head to head with the most powerful witch in the world humbled me and made me love him more than I did even moments ago. “I feel no malice from the ward. And I also think Cookie Witch is very aware of what she’s doing. She might not know about Carol’s surprise visit, but for some reason she didn’t want you or Fabio back in.”
“If she means no harm, then why keep us out?” Fabio questioned as he too looked uncomfortable with the turn of events.
“Not sure,” I admitted. “But I’m at full magic in the berry patch. Marge knows this and she knows I possess dark magic. I’ll zap her like a bug if I have to.”
“Promise?” Fabio asked taking my face in his hands.
“Witch’s honor.”
“I still don’t like this, but I’m deferring to you,” Mac said with an expression on his face that looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.
“That was really hard for you, wasn’t it?” I asked as I grinned up at him.
“Yes. Yes it was,” he confessed with a lopsided smile. “However, I’m gathering the troops and we’re going to surround the perimeter of the patch. Can you break the ward if you have to?” he asked of Baba.
“Possibly,” she said. “I would only do it in a dire emergency. We don’t know exactly why Marge set it. We’re simply surmising. There could be something far worse than some Shifters that the crazy old ass monkey is trying to keep out.”
“She’s right,” I said, considering the possibility. It was out there, but it was still within the realm. “Maybe it’s for your protection.”
“Come along, Zelda. We’re burning daylight and I’m getting bored,” Baba Yaga insisted.
“You’ll be careful and you will come back to me,” Mac informed me in his alpha dude voice. It was all kinds of hot and sexy.
“Yeah, you gotsta come back. It’s Goodie Table Night at the diner,” Fat Bastard added.
For a second I got really excited and then deflated like a popped balloon. “What good is Goodie Table Night without carbs? As the Goddess is my witness, I will never eat a tofu meatball again. I will go hungry instead. Those things taste like butt.”
“Youse know what butt tastes like?” Jango Fett asked, surprised and impressed.
“No,” I snapped. “It smells like butt so I’m assuming it has to taste like butt.”
“Never assume,” Baba Yaga chimed in with a laugh. “It makes an ass out of you.”
“You forgot the second part of the adage,” I grumbled.
“Nope, I’m not an ass,” she stated with glee.
“Whatever. Goodie Table Night has tragically lost its appeal. I’ll simply starve—to death—and waste away to nothing. I will live through this heinous ban on carbs and when it’s over—if I make it through it, I will never be hungry again—or something like that.”
“Fine, Scarlett O’Hara,” Fabio shouted, throwing his hands in the air and giving up. “I will lift the ban on carbs as long as you come back safe and sound and promise to eat fruits and vegetables along with Ho Hos.”
“Um… aren’t you going to owe a lot of money to the townsfolk if you change t
he rules?” I asked with a giggle.
“Money is absolutely immaterial where you are concerned,” Fabio huffed, insulted. “I’d trade my life for yours.”
“Me too,” Fat Bastard grunted.
“Me three,” Jango chimed in.
“Four,” Boba Fett added with a pelvic thrust.
“And me five,” Mac whispered in my ear as he walked me to the edge of the ward. “You are loved, my mate. Be safe and be quick. I’m jonesing for a Ho Ho.”
I was torn between laughing and crying. A little happy zing shot through my tummy. Lucky and Charm loved me too. I had no clue what I had done right to deserve this kind of life, but I was going to hold onto it with both of my hands and my whole heart. The magical world around us was crumbling and I knew deep within me that I could fix it—at least I hoped I could. I owed it to my family, my people and my puppies. I had a mission I was going to accomplish.
I just prayed it wouldn’t be impossible…
Chapter Thirteen
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, glancing around in confusion after we’d hoofed it for about fifteen minutes and ended up back where we’d started. “Um… I can’t remember how to get there.”
“No duh,” Baba griped, snapping her fingers and creating a small pool of sparkling blue water. Yanking off her hot pink faux fur jacket that could have passed for a bad 70’s shag throw rug, she got down on her knees and checked out her reflection.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to conjure up a mirror?”
“You can’t scry with a mirror,” she shot back.
I shrugged in embarrassment and shut my mouth. She was a bazillion years old and I was thirty. I might be a smart-ass, but I wasn’t stupid. Slipping off my coat, I sat down next to her and peeked into the water. Baba chanted in a hypnotically beautiful rhythm. The air was warm and balmy. The weather and the berry patch itself were bizarre. Strangely, I felt comfortable and safe here.
“It’s not working,” Baba snapped in frustration. She waved her hands displaying her perfectly manicured nails and made the pool disappear back into the lush green earth. “The old biddy’s hidden herself well.”
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