Magical Midway Paranormal Cozy Series Books 1-3

by Leanne Leeds

  Jeannie mourned Uncle Phil because she had lost him. The Magical Midway mourned Uncle Phil because they lost a leader. No one worried about Uncle Phil now, they only missed him because he was no longer here with them.

  At least not that they could see, anyway.

  Dergal’s death was not one that anyone in the Midway wept over. He was not liked by anyone, at least as far as I could tell. No one missed him, and as morning dawned, no one cared that he was gone. The assembled paranormals were even somewhat annoyed that I called a halt to the party after his death.

  That no one mourned Dergal, that he lived a life so unremarkable that no one missed him was sad. That many on the Midway today were relieved that he was gone was even more tragic.

  “I let him make a choice,” I said finally to Uncle Phil. “I think that was right. I think it was better than making a choice for him.”

  “Well, then it was right,” Uncle Phil smiled. Gee, thanks, Uncle Phil. What the heck is the point of a guide if he just agrees with everything you do?

  “I do have a question. Where did his body go?”

  “Ah, yes, our special sparkle death,” Uncle Phil laughed. “I will admit that I didn’t say anything to you just so I could see the look on your face when you went over to the pool.”

  “Um, thanks? Very funny.”

  “There is an enchantment within the magic that turns anyone who has died into sparkle ash.”

  “You mean glitter?”

  “No, I mean sparkle ash,” Uncle Phil repeated. “As soon as someone has passed on, their body combusts so quickly that no human eye can see it. What is left is a pile of sparkle ash. That sparkle ash can be given back to loved ones if the deceased has a family in one of the paranormal towns and expanded back into a body, or interred like any other cremated remains.”

  “What happens if someone’s killed?”

  “Well, they turn into sparkle ash. We wouldn’t want any of the humans coming across a dead body in their wanderings through the carnival or circus, would we?”

  “But how do you gather evidence? I mean, if someone’s turned into sparkle ash all the evidence of how they died and who killed them gets combusted into glitter bits,” I pointed out to Uncle Phil.

  “Yes, true, I never thought about that. How often would that happen, really? Murders at the Midway? Honestly, Charlotte, I don’t think it’s anything for you to worry about,” Uncle Phil said.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agreed with him.

  12

  As the week ended, the carnival seemed to settle back into normalcy. The inhabitants of the Magical Midway even appeared slightly more confident in my ability to lead them if the cheerful greetings were any indication.

  Slightly.

  I finally made the rounds, stopping to visit all the paranormal groups that called this traveling patch of existence home. It was a remarkably motley crew of strange creatures. Most seemed friendly, some seemed suspicious of me, and some were suspiciously cagey as all get out.

  “We are still a traveling carnival,” Fiona told me late that afternoon as we sat in the communications area sipping Flukum Slush, an icy grape drink that Hildegaard whipped up on hot days. “You’ve heard of the carnie code, right?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “What’s that?”

  “To put it simply, it’s us against the world. In the carnie world, locals are to be held at arm's length. We’re always a little suspicious of them—that’s true in human carnivals, by the way. Add to the fact that we’re the paranormal carnival, and we’re doubly suspicious.”

  “That doesn’t seem to make for a very friendly carnival,” I told her, frowning.

  “It’s all an act, Charlotte. Everything in every carnival is an act. While we want to make them happy, we do it to take the money, yeah? So, they are suspicious of us because we’ll only be there a few days and then we disappear. We’re suspicious of them because they are not us, and there are many things we don’t want them to find out.”

  “This place always seem so magical and perfect to me. You’re making it sound kind of… well, sleazy and cagey.”

  “No, it isn’t really. But we do walk a middle path. The middle way, ya kin? Midway? Middle way? The people in the paranormal towns just keep the humans out. Problem solved. Humans couldn’t see the towns if they were staring right at them. We mix with the humans regularly and even use our magic to put on a show for them. That’s risky.”

  “Then why does everybody do it? I mean, what’s the point of living in fear?” Fiona blew her long hair off her face with a loud exhalation of breath and rested her chin on her hand. “What? I don’t get it.”

  “We’re rebels. We don’t live like everyone else. Were not who the humans expect us to be. We don’t do what the paranormals expect us to do. We’re outsiders. But we like being outsiders,” Fiona explained. “Besides, where else can we all get a custom house for free because the ringmaster blinks it into existence?”

  “I can understand that part of it, at least,” I admitted as I gave the once over to Uncle Phil’s man cave of a sitting area. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time to redecorate. We solved Uncle Phil’s death, Dergal decided to deal with himself. I think I want something a little less masculine.”

  “Well, you can do it with the blink of an eye,” Fiona said. She stood up and walked around the cauldron cave considering what she thought I should do. “Can we get Netflix?”

  “Do we even have Internet?”

  “Well, no. But you could do that, couldn’t you?”

  Knowledge must be earned, not magicked, Samson said as he walked in.

  “I don’t feel like being able to watch cats on YouTube because I magicked an Internet connection is really cheating, Samson,” I told my familiar as he jumped up on the cauldron.

  I do, he answered. You must call your parents. You haven't spoken to your mother since dinner last night, and since you didn’t call for breakfast or lunch, they are both frantic.

  “Oh, shoot,” I jumped up out of the chair. “Wait, how do you know that?”

  Your father’s ability to speak to anything alive can travel remarkable distances when he is intentionally shouting in said creatures’ direction, Samson told me. My heightened familiar senses likely enabled him to faintly reach me, but he is definitely yelling.

  I ran over to the cauldron and asked it to call my father. The steam and bubbles whooshed upwards as my panic-stricken father slowly solidified. “My goodness, Charlotte, are you all right? Your mother and I have been worried sick about you!”

  “I’m really sorry, Dad,” I told him as I reached toward him. “Things got really, really crazy last night. The good news is we figured out what happened to Uncle Phil. It turns out it was all an accident.”

  “An accident? How on earth could he be killed by accident?”

  I spent the next half-hour explaining to my father the ins and outs of the past couple of days. As I was explaining everything, I realized just how much of the investigation and discovering Dergal’s issues, and actions had rested upon me. “Today has been the first day where everything is kind of normal and somewhat calmed down. Again, I’m really sorry for not calling last night and worrying you guys when I didn’t call for breakfast.”

  “I understand, Charlotte,” Dad said. “Your mother, on the other hand…”

  “I know, I know.”

  My father turned and spoke away from me so I couldn’t hear the conversation between him and my mom. After a minute or two, he turned back. “Your mother would like me to relay to you that she would like us to come visit today.”

  “Okay, give me some time to figure out where we are and where the closest airport is and—” My father held up his hand, and I waited.

  Quite a while.

  “Your mother has asked me to tell you that she is well aware that you are a near omnipotent witch with superpowers as well as sitting in a traveling town that houses many creatures with superpowers and that you surely can find a way t
o get us there without the use of an airplane.” Dad turned to her again and nodded, holding his hands up in defeat. “She asked if there were any genies at the Magical Midway?”

  “Yes, Uncle Phil’s girlfriend, in fact.”

  “Your mother wants you to go and ask the genie to grant your wish to bring both of us to the Magical Midway,” Dad said. “Once we’re there, your magic can send us home.”

  “Will that work?” I asked Samson.

  If Jeannie will grant you the wish, Samson replied.

  “Okay, I’m on it,” I told Dad. “Do you want me to call you again before I make the wish so you guys will be ready?”

  “Your mother informs me I will be ready immediately, so no,” Dad smiled weakly. “We’ll see you soon.”

  “Hopefully,” I told Dad. “I’ll go see Jeannie now.”

  We disconnected from the cauldron call, and I started the short walk toward Jeannie’s Snack Shop.

  Jeannie’s building was no longer dark, but her windows were still snapped shut. “I bet Uncle Phil’s in there with her,” I said quietly to Fiona as we walked around the back to knock on the door.

  “Probably,” Fiona responded. “They were quite close when he was alive. I was actually surprised that they didn’t marry before… well, before your uncle died.”

  “Really? They didn’t even share a yurt, though.”

  “Djinn don’t sleep,” Fiona told me as she rapped on the closed wooden door. “Jeannie doesn’t actually have living quarters because she doesn’t need a sleeping area. You can almost always find her here at the shop, or at your Uncle Phil’s place. Well, you used to.”

  The door cracked open, and the older woman smiled at me with a hesitant friendliness. “Hello, Charlotte. It’s so nice of you and Fiona to stop by to check on me. I’m so sorry about the other day.”

  “Please, don’t apologize,” I told her as she opened the door wider for Fiona and me to slip through. “It can’t be easy to lose someone that way.”

  “No, it’s definitely not,” Jeannie told me as we closed the door behind us. I immediately noticed the shimmery glow across the room.

  “Hello, girls,” Uncle Phil called from his seat on the counter.

  “Hey, wait a minute—” Fiona said as she pointed. “Can’t you… you know… I mean, you did for me, right? Why not?”

  “Actually, I can do better than that, can’t I?” I realized that not only could I make it so Jeannie could hear Uncle Phil, but that she could see him, too. I met Uncle Phil’s eyes and held my hands up in a silent question, not wanting to clue Jeannie into what we were discussing if there was a reason he didn’t want me to make him… well, alive to her again.

  “That’s an exciting proposition, my girl,” Uncle Phil said as he tapped his finger against his chin. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Not perfect, but adequate. Clearly, I can’t be all that I was to her.” My uncle wiggled the facsimile of his eyebrows. “If you get my meaning.”

  “Oh, man, please, let’s pretend I didn’t,” I shuddered as I glanced back and forth from the round older woman to my fat uncle. “I didn’t need that image in my head. Really.”

  “I feel like I’m missing something,” Jeannie said as she glanced at me in confusion. “Did I forget to clean up something?” She looked around at the spotless building.

  “No, no, Jeannie. I was…” I paused, trying to think through the ramifications of letting Jeannie know that Uncle Phil was seated just two feet to her right. I didn’t want to hurt the woman, but it seemed unfair to keep the information from her.

  And, frankly, it seemed like half the Midway knew that he was still here, anyway. I was somewhat surprised that she didn’t know I was still talking to him. “I was talking to Uncle Phil’s ghost.”

  “He’s here?” she asked as she burst into tears. “Here, in this very room, right now?”

  “Yep. In fact, he’s been in this room with you so much that he hasn’t been spending all that much time with me teaching me what I need to know. Just sayin’.” I shot Uncle Phil a look. “I can enable you to hear him and see him. Would you like me to do that?”

  “Permanently?”

  “I think so.” I looked at Uncle Phil, and he nodded. “Yes, I could do that.”

  “Oh, please, Charlotte,” Jeannie wept as she raced across the room and clutched my hands. “I miss him so very much. I’ve been so lonely without him.”

  If I could do this for Jeannie, was there even a point to keeping Uncle Phil an invisible ghost? The ghosts inside the Haunted House could be seen by anyone, including humans that visited the attraction. Someone must have enabled that years ago. Is there any reason I shouldn’t make Uncle Phil visible? To everyone?

  Your uncle was the ringmaster, Samson reminded me. Having two ringmasters walking around could get confusing. There also could be unforeseen consequences. It’s never been done.

  It would not be that big of a deal, I told him. He won’t be plugged back into the ringmaster power or anything, right?

  Power is more than just magic, Charlotte.

  I want everyone that’s connected magically to the Magical Midway able to see and hear Uncle Phil, I thought after closing my eyes. Upon opening them, I found all three staring at me. “Did it work?” I asked.

  Uncle Phil hopped down from the counter and slowly put his sparkly hand in front of Jeannie’s gaze. Her eyes widened as she stared down at the ghostly palm hovering in front of her nose. Turning, the shocked djinn looked up at Uncle Phil and smiled. “You’re pink!” she laughed.

  “And blue! Let’s not forget the blue,” he smiled. “I’ve missed our talks. I wish I could hug you, my Jeannie.”

  “Granted!” Jeannie shouted and clapped her hands.

  Uh oh.

  The shimmering sparkles around the ghostly outline of Uncle Phil grew bright and brighter still. With a loud crack that hurt my ears, the lights disappeared, and Uncle Phil stood in the snack shack looking for all the world like he had never died. Jeannie threw herself into his arms. Though my uncle embraced her back, he caught my eye.

  I’m not sure this was a good idea, Uncle Phil sent.

  Can’t I just undo it?

  You can’t undo a granted wish, Uncle Phil responded. You can make me invisible again, but I’ll still have… whatever this mass is. Unless I wish for it to go away and she grants it. I don’t even know how that would work. And I don’t know if she will.

  I tried to warn you, Samson pointed out.

  I took about ten minutes of walking around the Midway with Uncle Phil’s reconstituted ghost to realize that I had just made my ringmaster ascension a million times harder than it had been. Maybe. The word of his pseudo-resurrection spread like wildfire, and supernaturals came from all corners of the grounds to see him again.

  “You didn’t think that one through, did you?” Fortuna asked as she wiggled her way out of the crowd pressed against the former ringmaster and walked over to Fiona and me on the edge of the near-riot. “Everyone’s asking him questions about when we’ll open, where we’re going next.”

  “Questions they never bothered to ask me. I know.”

  “They know him. Knew him as ringmaster for years,” Fiona said as she watched the thrall of excitement. “People don’t like change. They like what’s familiar. He’s familiar.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “Look, this could be a good thing,” Fortuna said quietly. “You really weren’t trained at all, and you haven’t spent much time here. Your uncle could take some of the pressure off you since he can step in with the more mundane, operational aspects. It might not be a bad thing.”

  “He’s a man,” Fiona scoffed. “Now that he has a body and everyone can hear him, he’ll be acting like he’s back in charge in no time.”

  The three of us watched as Uncle Phil shook hands and hugged friend after friend. Fortuna was right, and Fiona was right. I likely just made it much more difficult for the people of Magical Midway to see me as the ringmaster, but I a
lso just bought myself some time to learn while having a safety net.

  As far as trade-offs go, it seemed fair.

  There was also the simple fact that Uncle Phil was murdered. No ringmaster had ever been killed before him, and he was robbed of time he shouldn’t have been. My father’s brother didn’t get to marry or have children. He lost so much, and watching Jeannie happily cling to Uncle Phil’s hip as everyone welcomed him back made me feel like this was the right thing to do.

  Even if it made my journey a little bumpier.

  “I’m alright with it,” I told them both. “This was never going to be easy for me, anyway.”

  “I’ve been raised to take over the Makepeace Circus since I was a little boy,” Gunther Makepeace said as he joined our conversation. “Personally, I think I might have preferred the way you came to the job. Must be nice to just make some things up as you go.”

  “Gunther!” I jumped. “What are you doing here?”

  “My father got a call that Phil Astley had come back from the dead. He asked me to ‘sneak in and spy’ to find out what was going on. So, I walked in and decided just to ask you,” Gunther smiled. He swung his eyes toward Uncle Phil and ticked his chin in the crowd’s direction. “That’s something we haven’t seen before.”

  As we stood at the edge, I explained to Gunther the series of events that resulted in Uncle Phil standing at the center of the clearing and holding court with the residents of the Magical Midway. “So, he’s not alive, really. He just… looks and sounds alive.”

  “Fascinating,” Gunther murmured.

  “Why would your Dad even care? And how on earth did he find out so fast? I mean, this literally happened less than an hour ago.”

  “The Makepeace spies, Charlotte,” Fiona said.

  “Spies?” I blinked. Fiona rolled her eyes at me.

  “The fairs are protected from remote viewing for some reason,” Gunther explained. “So, if you want to know what’s going on within them, you have to send someone to join, and they report back to whoever sent them. We have a few in our number, too.”