Magical Midway Paranormal Cozy Series Books 1-3

by Leanne Leeds

  “Wow, that’s a pretty harsh penalty. What if you’re attacked, or someone threatens you? You still can’t use your magic to harm another? Even if it’s to protect yourself?” I asked her.

  “No, not even then,” Jeannie told me as she reached beneath the counter and pulled out a shiny black gun. “That’s what I have my human world Ruger for.”

  Okay, every paranormal isn’t wholly naive and all lollipops and cotton candy. The genie was packing heat.

  I thought through all the information I had and tried to figure out some way that poison had gotten in that cup. It didn’t sound like it was possible that Jeannie had manifested it there accidentally, and I sensed nothing but genuine shock and pain from her at the thought her drink killed Uncle Phil.

  “Did you bring the cup of sleepy time to Uncle Phil’s tent yourself?”

  “No, Dergal brought it over for me. He said he was heading over to a party at the weredeer’s tent and offered to bring it with him,” Jeannie told me. “The last time I saw the cup that night was when I handed it to him out that window right there.”

  She pointed to the front counter service area of the stand. We all stared at it as if it would divulge some secret.

  It didn’t.

  “Dergal is a centaur. He is manly. If you call that drink a sleepy time drink in front of Dergal, I will be quite put out, niece,” Uncle Phil threatened.

  I thanked Jeannie for talking to us. As we walked out, I heard her sobs begin anew.

  For me, Uncle Phil’s death represented a transition. He changed from a flesh and blood uncle to an ephemeral representation of the same uncle I had always known. His death represented a massive change in my life, a new role I still wasn’t sure I could handle, but he was still with me.

  I had to keep reminding myself that for everyone else here, he was gone.

  The centaur’s Ring The Bell game was just north of Jeannie’s Snack Shop on the east side of the Midway. Ningul, the leader of the centaurs, gave me a sweaty muscled hug as I stopped by. Even though kelpies were horse shapeshifters, and centaurs were half horse half human, the two species didn’t resemble one another in their human disguise.

  Each group’s human form seemed to take on a similar style or a body type. For example, the kelpies were lithe and slim and elegant like ballet dancers. The centaurs were muscled and athletic. The Larrys were in-between, well-built but not overly muscled, though each brother sported distinct patrician features that appeared strikingly Roman. The leprechauns were normal-sized but slightly shorter in stature, and all kept their red hair. There were salamanders, and brownies, and naiads. We had a sylph and a yeti. Such a variety existed here it was hard to remember them all.

  Yet even in human form, you could recognize each individual as a member of a distinct tribe within the Magical Midway.

  Which brings me back to the centaurs.

  Holy horse hooves, they were all hot.

  The men were sleek and muscled and tall and powerful, and their voices were masculine and gruff. The women were tall and toned with perfect curves and sharp features. They seemed to be like a biker gang—if that biker gang went to the gym every day, moisturized after every shower, and really, really dressed well.

  The male centaurs always made me swoon.

  As I breathed in Ningul’s intoxicating maleness and enjoyed the feel of his perfectly delivered hug, I realized I was the boss now. I should probably get my drooling attraction to them under control, I thought as he released me and we asked where Dergal was.

  “Dergal is over at the roller coaster today,” Ningul said as a breeze blew through his chestnut colored hair. “One of the chains needed repair, and he’s the best with his tools.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt about that,” Fiona told Ningul as I fanned myself from the heat of midday. That’s what I hoped it looked like, anyway.

  Suddenly, Samson’s snarky, nosy cat voice broke into my brain’s very inappropriate imaginings. I can hear your thoughts, you know. Even from my very comfortable bed in your yurt. Especially when they’re very loud.

  Shut up, Samson.

  “I’m also standing right next to you, niece,” my uncle murmured. “I just didn’t want to embarrass you, dear. He is a very handsome young man.”

  “Oh my God, we have to go. Thanks!” I told Ningul as I backed away and turned around toward the roller coaster.

  “What was that about?” Fiona asked me as she struggled to keep up with my brisk pace away from the embarrassment that was my too full mind.

  “You don’t want to know. Trust me. You really, really don’t want to know.”

  Never alone. Right.

  Got it.

  6

  I’d never been good at meditation.

  My mind raced in a thousand directions all the time, and the one meditation class I took in college was an abject failure. There were just too many thoughts, observations, and distractions bouncing around inside my head for me to push them all out. It would have taken a mental bulldozer to shove them all to the side.

  Walking the path toward the roller coaster, though, I tried to force the mental contortions needed to lock every fleeting thought, feeling, and idea away from my uncle and the cat that took up seemingly permanent residence in my mind. I supposedly had incredible cosmic power, so surely I could stop my mind from racing like a speed demon kelpie.

  “Not going to work,” Fiona said as we got closer to the back of the Midway.

  “Oh, for goodness sake, can you read my mind now, too? Does everybody in this place have the ability to rummage around inside my head and find out what I’m thinking?”

  “I can’t read your mind, Charlotte. But the way you’re twisting your face up in concentration, it’s not hard to figure out what you’re trying to do. I wondered how you were going to deal with that aspect of all this.”

  “Considering how much you know about my supposedly secret abilities, Fiona, why don’t you tell me how to block them out?” I snapped at her and then immediately regretted it. I reached out a hand toward my friend and squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to gripe at you. This is all just a little overwhelming.”

  Fiona stopped walking and grabbed my shirt to spin me around. Just looking at my friend my eyes watered as the stress grew in the fertile confusion that nagged at me. On the one hand, this whole place was ridiculous. On the other hand, this really was all life and death. It was serious, and I was seriously unprepared.

  “Now, look here,” Fiona said as she stepped closer. “The truth that I know is that no ringmaster is chosen if they cannot handle the job. This place runs in the very blood of your veins, ya kin? You’re going to do fine, but you’re going to have to start believing that you can do it.”

  “It’s hard to believe anything when I’m this hungry and thirsty. I would kidnap a leprechaun for a vanilla milkshake.”

  “Not to interrupt your whining because, really, I’m fascinated, but Dergal’s right over there.”

  I turned and gazed toward the roller coaster to see yet another hot, sexy, built-like—tank centaur walking toward us as if the dirt path was a runway in Paris. We could send the centaurs out to compete with Chippendale’s dancers, and they would likely put the humans out of business. Circuses can have male strip shows, right?

  No, my uncle thought. We are family friendly. Male strippers would be utterly offensive. What a shocking thought.

  Well, how do you think families get made, Uncle Phil?

  You may want to wipe the drool off the corner of your mouth. It’s rather unbecoming for a ringmaster. And stop with those ridiculous ideas.

  Oh, get out of my head. I wasn’t entertaining the idea seriously. Okay, mostly not seriously.

  “Dergal! Over here!” Fiona shouted and waved the centaur over. His eyes scanned the crowd, and for a split second, I could swear I sensed a flash of concern when he spotted us. In the next moment, a broad smile took over anything I thought I felt was gone. He sexily sauntered over.

 
“Well, if it isn’t the new boss,” Dergal crooned as he reached out a powerful hand and caressed my neck, shoulder, and arm.

  What the heck?

  My innards froze in shock at the intimate gesture. I didn’t know Dergal, and I wasn’t expecting his hands on me. “What are you two beautiful ladies needing from me? I have much to give, you know. I certainly hope you’ve pulled me aside so that I can be of… service.”

  He winked, and I tried not to retch.

  All the attraction I had for Dergal popped like a water balloon. He was a slithery snake or a slimy slug. I couldn’t stand guys that used the “I am so sexy you know you want me” thing as a come on. A gentle mist of confidence was attractive in a man. Dergal was trying to spew arrogance all over my personal space like a typhoon.

  “We just met with Jeannie, and she mentioned that you brought Uncle Phil his sleeping drink on the night he died,” I told Dergal as I took the measure of his energy in reaction to my statement. While his attractive smile grew wider, his energy closed in on itself. Doors snapped shut within his mind, and his strength felt mildly repulsive.

  “I don’t think it was on that night, no,” Dergal answered as he physically stepped closer and fluttered his bedroom eyes in my direction. “I’m sure I was back in my tent early that evening. I don’t even think I worked that day.”

  “Wasn’t that the night of the weredeer party? Jeannie mentioned that you were going and offered to take the drink over to Uncle Phil for her. His tent is right behind the carousel, so that would make sense. Ring a bell?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Dergal said sharply, some of his friendliness fading.

  “You don’t think there was a party, you didn’t go if there was a party, or you didn’t offer to take the drink?” Dergal’s energy pulsed and hummed even stronger repellent at me as his telegraphed a desire to be anywhere other than where he was.

  “I really need to get back to Ningul,” Dergal said as he stepped back and walked away quickly. “Sorry I couldn’t be of any more help.” Fiona and I glared at him as he briskly put as much distance between us as he could without looking more suspicious than he already did.

  “I’m not a witch with super psychic abilities or anything, but that seemed just a wee bit concerning, no?” Fiona asked as we stared at Dergal’s back.

  “He was hiding something,” I told her.

  “Well, I got that, Charlotte,” Fiona raised her eyebrow.

  Why would Dergal want to kill me? Uncle Phil thought.

  Do you remember whether Dergal brought you the drink or not?

  No. I just came back to the tent after checking on the weredeer party, and it was sitting on my nightstand waiting for me.

  Did you see Dergal at the weredeer party?

  No, I didn’t. But I wasn’t there long. I just popped in after the boat ride with Jeannie to say hello.

  I related what my uncle and said to Fiona. “So, considering that, either Dergal is telling the truth, or he left the party to poison my uncle.” My stomach rumbled loudly, and Fiona’s eyes grew wide. “Sorry. I can’t help it. I am so incredibly hungry.”

  “Why don’t you call your Mum and Dad to send you some food and drink?”

  “I can’t make them fly here just to bring me a sandwich. With a plane ticket, that would be one seriously expensive lunch.”

  “Use the cauldron,” Fiona said as she walked back toward Uncle Phil’s tent.

  “What cauldron?”

  “Ay, Charlotte, what would you do without me?” Fiona said with exasperation as she walked back grabbed my arm, and dragged me back toward my uncle’s tent.

  The yurts that everyone lived in at the circus were circles that divided into four quarter sections (like a pie with massive pieces). My uncle’s yurt had one residential pie slice, and three other slices that no one lived in. Each pie slice had its own entry point, and Fiona brought me into the one right next to Uncle Phil’s residential slice.

  Man, I wanted some pie.

  A big juicy apple one, with cinnamon and sugar on top and vanilla bean ice cream melting all over it. My stomach growled again, and I licked my lips imagining the pie, hoping that I could fool my stomach into thinking I had just eaten one.

  It didn’t work.

  “This is the cauldron,” Fiona said as she walked me back to a large black iron kettle bubbling rainbow colored sparkles. It was so big that the rim of it came up to my hip, and the steaming bubbles popped as it boiled. The steam filled the tent with the scent of Irises. “You can use it to call anyone paranormal you like, and you’ll sort of video chat them. You can also transfer things through it.”

  “Does the cauldron solve the Wonkavision problem of miniaturization?”

  “What is Wonkavision?” Fiona appeared confused.

  “Nevermind. It’s a human movie. It doesn’t really exist, it’s just a story. Anyway, how do I make this thing work?”

  “Just think about a paranormal you wish to communicate with, and the cauldron will find them. As the steam thickens, they’ll appear in it. You can’t touch them, and they can’t touch you, but you can pass items back and forth. Like a sandwich.”

  “Or an apple pie,” I drooled.

  I stepped up to the cauldron and stared down into the boiling liquid and thought Mom. The steam curled taller and taller until it had every appearance of a geyser. There was a bright shimmer, and then my mother appeared smiling within the mist.

  “Charlotte? Oh, Charlotte, it’s so good to see you! We hoped you would call!”

  “I didn’t even know about this cauldron until Fiona told me a minute ago, Mom. Sorry it took me a little bit of time, but I’m still learning my way around here. How come we never talked to Uncle Phil this way?”

  “Because your uncle would’ve had to call us since we don’t have a cauldron and… well, you know how he and your father were. Is everything going well? Are you getting settled in?”

  “Well, I have a little bit of a problem that I’m hoping you could help me with.”

  “Sure! What’s the problem?”

  “Well, we figured out that Uncle Phil was actually poisoned, but we don’t know who did it. Since we don’t know who did it were not sure if they tried to kill Uncle Phil because they were mad at him or because he was the ringmaster. Since someone may have tried to kill the ringmaster, Fiona, Samson, and Uncle Phil are a little worried that I might be poisoned, too. So I haven’t eaten. Can you send a sandwich? And maybe some pie?”

  My mother’s jaw dropped, and she turned away to relate what I had just said to my father. I could vaguely hear her animated side of the conversation, but I couldn’t listen to what he was saying.

  “Your father wants to know if he should come back. Though honestly, since your father knew your Uncle Phil was murdered, I can’t understand why he even came home, but he and I will deal with that as well as why he didn’t tell me as soon as I am off the call,” Mom told me rapidly.

  Uh oh.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I told her reluctantly. “I can always call if I think I need him, but honestly Fiona has been stuck to me like glue and Samson and Uncle Phil both seem to live in my head. Adding one more person to this mix doesn’t really seem necessary.”

  My mother nodded quickly and then turned to relate what I said again to my father. When she wasn’t facing whatever she was seeing on her side, her voice became faint as if I heard it through a long tunnel. I could watch her hands animating her discussion with my father as they no doubt discussed whether he should disregard what I said and come, anyway.

  “Um, Mom? Mom. Mom!”

  My mother threw up her hand to silence me as her muffled exclamations toward my father became louder. After a good sixty seconds of what I imagined was Dad getting what-for, she turned. “Yes, honey?”

  “Bottle of water? Please?”

  “Oh my goodness, Charlie, I am so sorry. Just a second.” It’s too bad Mom couldn’t use her calm-the-heck-down on herself.

  She stepped
out of the line of sight of the cauldrons’ other end while I stared into the mist waiting. “Does the cauldron not follow her?”

  “No. Wherever it manifests to connect with the person, it kinda plants itself right there so they can step out of both hearing and view. I think it’s so you can’t spy on somebody.”

  “Won’t someone notice a shimmery apparition in front of them?”

  “It shimmery to you. To the paranormals on the other side, it just looks like you’re standing there not moving much. There is this whole weird mechanism to ‘protect our secrets’ and all that hogwash. It protects our secrets all right, but these manifestations make us look insane.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you can’t hear anybody else on the other side, right? What happens if they talk to you? You won’t answer. You’ll just ignore them. Whoever designed this didn’t think this through very well,” Fiona pointed out. Just then the top of a water bottle poked through the mist. I stared at it. “Just grab it, Charlotte. It won’t bite.”

  I reached forward like Charlie grabbing the Wonka bar in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and slowly slid the water bottle out of the mist. Unscrewing the top, I gulped half the bottle without taking a breath. “Oh my gosh, it’s ice cold. And not poisoned. This is so good. I love this thing.”

  The edge of a plate poked through, and I grabbed it. A fully dressed overstuffed turkey sandwich, potato chips, and a pile of sweet gherkin pickles covered my mother’s everyday china. I placed it on the table next to me and watch the mist hopefully. When an apple poked through, I tried not to be disappointed.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said as I placed the apple next to the turkey sandwich.

  “Not a problem, Charlie,” she said as her image appeared again. “That’s my good china though, so make sure to give me that plate back at dinner. If you call around six thirty tonight, I’ll make you a plate.”

  “With apple pie?”

  “Not on the dinner plate,” she told me. I slapped Fiona’s hand as she reached to steal a sweet gherkin pickle and gave her a dirty look. “Do you want me to send over a case of water so that you’ll have some? I can run to the store this afternoon.”