Witch of Mintwood Mysteries 7-9

by Addison Creek

  “I think I put them right next to the stairs,” Charlie called after us.

  “Are these the boxes you begged me to bring down?” Greer called out.

  “Maybe,” said Charlie.

  “So what you mean is that I put them right next to the stairs?” said Greer.

  “Maybe,” said Charlie.

  “Here they are,” I cried triumphantly.

  There was a row of six boxes, none of them marked. Greer started at one end while I moved to the other.

  “This one is old kitchen supplies,” said Greer. “I’m not sure it’s been used since the fifties.”

  The first box I looked into was old shoes. “Her feet were so small.”

  “Your grandmother wasn’t very tall,” said Greer.

  After a bit I said, “I think I’ve found it!” The next box I’d opened had clothes in it, and buried at the bottom was something wrapped in protective plastic.

  My grandmother wasn’t precious about her possessions. If she was preserving something, there was definitely a reason.

  Chapter Two

  Now that I had a witch’s cloak, I was ready to go!

  When I stepped onto the porch, every ghost I knew greeted me. Muddled Mintwood Cemetery had turned out in force. All the farmhouse ghosts were there. Karen looked sour but resolute, Mr. Bone had put on a new tie, Tank had fluffed his tail.

  Standing proudly at the front of the ghost gathering was Paws. He wore the green jeweled collar around his neck and waited patiently on his crate.

  Funnel, the bloodhound who lived at the cemetery, lay at the bottom of the steps. His ears flopped out on either side of him and even his eyelids drooped.

  Morris and Morton of Babbling Brook Barn fame had also made an appearance.

  “You look wonderful,” said Mrs. Goodkeep, clapping her hands together.

  “You look like a younger version of your grandmother,” added one of the cemetery ghosts.

  I thanked them all for their presence. “This is really too much,” I said. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

  “Don’t be silly! We sure did,” said Mrs. Goodkeep.

  “Mintwood ghosts have to stick together,” added Gary. “We wouldn’t let you defend Mintwood alone.”

  The green cloak hung comfortingly around my shoulders. It smelled like my grandmother, giving me courage as well as comfort. There was a gold sparkle around the edges that glinted when it caught the light.

  Evenlyn had left shoes with the cloak, but they were too small for me so I’d left them behind. Since I couldn’t wear the shoes my grandmother had paired with the cloak, I had chosen a pair of old green flats.

  In my hand was my wand, but my nerves were back in full force. I couldn’t believe tonight was finally the night.

  As I started down the steps a dry voice behind me said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  I turned to look at Greer with a frown, then realization dawned.

  “Jasper’s gift!” I raced up the stairs two at a time, leaving a sea of very confused ghosts behind.

  “Don’t worry. We aren’t in a hurry or anything. We’ll wait,” Paws called after me.

  The little black box was still in the kitchen where I’d left it. I felt a thrill when I picked it up, and both my friends crowded into the kitchen to watch me open it.

  “What do you think it is?” Charlie whispered to Greer.

  “No idea,” she said.

  I pulled the lid off and grinned.

  Inside was a miniature barn made of glass. The edges and planes caught the light and looked like rainbows. The building looked just like Jasper’s Babbling Brook Barn.

  I held up the token to my friends.

  “That’s so cute!” Charlie gushed. “He probably saw it somewhere and thought of you.”

  “Yeah, and said he didn’t want you to open it in front of him because of how hostile you were about the whole thing when it was happening,” said Greer, winking.

  “Which reminds me, tomorrow we’re going to be picketing outside the library,” I said to Charlie, “to protest the addition. The old building is a fine example of workmanship from generations past and we don’t want it ruined by the addition of something incompatible.”

  “Oh, goodness do you have to?” Charlie rolled her eyes. “The library has enough problems without protesters showing up.”

  “Mrs. Snicks thinks it’s best,” I replied.

  “Since she’s the librarian,” said Charlie, “I suppose I have to respect that.”

  “Which is why I said I’d do it, so she wasn’t the one drawing the attention,” I said. “I thought you might want to cover the story. Sometimes a town needs a good protest. Let the select committee know we’re not sheep.”

  “LET’S GO!” Paws bellowed from the porch

  I tucked the barn trinket into my pocket and felt its weight against my hip. It reminded me of Jasper, and I was comforted.

  Charlie and Greer enveloped me in a hug. “We’ll see you when you get back,” said Charlie, trying to sound encouraging.

  As I walked to the Beetle, friendly ghosts sparkled all around me, but they stayed quiet. Even Paws had forgotten to bicker with Tank. If this Witches’ Council was no big deal . . . well, at this point it felt like a big deal, so there seemed to be no point in pretending otherwise.

  Paws took pride of place in front of the Beetle. Charlie and Greer stood waved me off from the porch.

  Despite all the support, I felt all too alone as I climbed into the car.

  “Where are we going?” Paws asked.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Your grandmother didn’t bother with these sorts of meetings when I was around. Witches came to her, but if she went to them she didn’t take me.”

  “Maybe she thought you were too nosy.”

  “I am nosy,” said the cat. “It’s good to know what’s going on at all times so I can choose not to participate in it.”

  We drove in silence for a while, then Paws said, “Everything is going to be okay. You’re in a lot of trouble, but it isn’t as if they can strip you of your witch powers. You’re all equal, don’t forget that.”

  “You think I’m equal to them?” I asked softly.

  “I mean, not in magical ability. If you practiced for twenty years maybe you’d have a chance in a fight, but since you don’t even practice, that’s going to be tough.”

  “Comforting,” I muttered.

  “What I’m saying is that you should be respectful, but don’t let them push you around. You’re a witch too,” said the cat. “At the rate you’re going this is likely to be your first of many Witches’ Council meetings, so you might as well stand up to them now as later.”

  Outside the car the summer night drifted past. The sky was clear and there was barely any wind ruffling the trees. It was a warm night, but I was shivering. For the first time, I was about to meet many of the other witches around Mintwood.

  I knew Gerry and Harriet already; they were friends of mine. In fact, Harriet was literally family and Gerry might as well have been.

  Ellie and her cohorts were dark witches, a whole different matter. I didn’t trust them and I wouldn’t listen to them. I feared them for what they could do, but I would never run from them.

  Meredith Munn showing up on my doorstep was something different yet again. The Witches’ Council had taken notice of me. But what that meant I had no idea.

  “Where are we headed?” Paws asked again.

  “The cauldron store.”

  “Okay, but really, where are we headed?”

  “It’s in Caedmon,” I told him, thinking it was nice that it wasn’t far to go.

  “There are no cauldron stores in Caedmon. It’s far too dull,” said Paws.

  “It apparently isn’t so dull when there’s a Witches’ Council meeting,” I said.

  “They’ve moved up your meeting for a reason. I’m not so sure we should be in such a rush,” said Paws skeptically.

/>   “You want to take me to another witch hunter meeting instead?” I asked.

  One night Paws had found me visiting Evenlyn’s grave and decided we should go for a jaunt. In the dead of night the ridiculous animal had had me drive down a road that led mainly to deserted summer houses by a lake, all in order to spy on a gathering of witch hunters. As a witch myself, I was less than thrilled.

  “Probably not,” said Paws.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I imagine they won’t take terribly long to find us.”

  “Comforting.”

  “What? You have your wand. It should be fine,” said the cat.

  “Here we are,” I said, getting back to the practicalities.

  Paws peered out the window into the gloom. “Where?” he asked.

  “The directions say take a right at the tree with the pink ribbon,” I pointed. Tied haphazardly around a nearby pine tree was a huge pink bow.

  “It’s the size of me,” said the cat.

  “Good. We didn’t miss it,” I replied.

  We turned right. Somehow the road seemed to materialize in front of my car, though I had no idea how.

  “Slow down,” coughed Paws. He was being jostled about on the rough road and he didn’t like it.

  I let my foot off the gas.

  “What’s the next direction?” he asked.

  “Keep going straight at the cauldron,” I said.

  “Who would leave a cauldron out in the middle of the woods?”

  “I have no idea.”

  To be sure, not very long after I turned down the tree-lined road there was a big rock. If Greer, Charlie, and I had all stood on each other’s shoulders, this rock would still have been taller than the three of us. But on it, again in pink, was a poorly drawn cauldron.

  “Looks like we’re going in the right direction,” said Paws in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “The next direction says that a tree will be on fire and to turn right again before that,” I said.

  “I hope the woods are safe,” said the cat.

  “Maybe it isn’t literal,” I suggested.

  We drove for ten more minutes without seeing anything.

  “Did we miss it?” wondered Paws.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, peering through my windshield.

  Part of me was worried that some nighttime critter might go darting into the road in front of me. We weren’t going fast enough to cause serious damage, but it was still a concern.

  “There,” I gasped at last.

  We rounded a turn and suddenly, right in front of us, was a tree blazing brightly.

  The leaves and branches had clearly been magicked. First of all, the fire was purple. Second of all, the surrounding trees were untouched by the flame.

  “Still going in the right direction. Still so grateful for the affirmation,” said Paws in the driest voice I had ever heard.

  I turned sharply. Both Paws and I leaned sideways.

  “Now what?” the cat yowled.

  “Now it says we just go straight and the store should be right in front of us.” I had been careful to memorize the note from earlier, because I knew I’d be driving in the dark.

  “Isn’t there a lake near here?” said Paws.

  “I don’t know. Probably, since it’s Maine and all,” I said.

  Just then I saw something up ahead and slammed on the breaks. Now Paws went flying forward, landing on the floor of the Beetle as we came to a screeching halt.

  “What on earth!” said the cat.

  “What is that?” I pointed out the window, aware that my hand was trembling but unable to do anything about it.

  “That’s a statue,” said Paws.

  In front of us was a big statue of a witch. She was sitting in front of a cauldron with a row of brooms behind her, stirring whatever was in the pot.

  “I thought it was real,” I whispered.

  “No, statues aren’t real, and even in witch land I don’t think they can come to life,” said Paws.

  I took a deep, steadying breath. “Sorry for braking so suddenly,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m just a ghost. What do I matter?” said the cat.

  “Exactly,” I said and started rolling forward again.

  I held my breath as we passed the statue, but I didn’t realize I was doing it until my chest started to hurt. I released the pent-up air with a sharp exhale.

  “There, I see it!” I cried at last.

  In front of us was a row of what looked like three connected houses. As part of a small downtown street, the houses looked like little stores. In the middle was one with a sign that said “Cauldron Shop.”

  With twinkle lights outlining the roofs and windows, the three little white buildings shone in the darkness. Out front were fire pits filled with purple flame and any number of comfortable chairs. There was even an ornate rug. I had never seen anything so cute and entirely out of place in my life.

  “I think we found it,” I said.

  “Looks like it,” said Paws.

  There were several other cars parked in front of the little row of shops, and even more lining the sides of the street.

  I did a three point turn, which turned into about a ten point turn as I tried to avoid all the other vehicles. Just as I was parking along the side of the road I noticed the curtains in the center shop window brush aside. Someone had seen that I was there.

  “Am I late?” I asked.

  “It’s ten to midnight,” said Paws. So no.

  I turned the car off but didn’t move. I could hear the summer peepers singing, and scattered in the distant trees were a handful of fireflies, or maybe magic. Sometimes there wasn’t much of a difference.

  “Come on, I’m not getting any younger,” said Paws irritably.

  With a heavy sigh I pushed my door open and jumped out of the car. There was still no one else outside, but another flutter of the curtain told me they knew I was coming.

  After taking another steadying breath I marched right up to the front door and knocked.

  There was no answer.

  From inside I could hear laughter and the clink of glasses.

  I knocked again.

  Still nothing.

  “Maybe I should just go in,” I said to Paws.

  “Hurry up, then,” said the cat, still irritable.

  I opened the door and a strong smell of incense hit me full in the face. I coughed a bit as the haze enveloped me.

  About twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare.

  I had just walked into a room full of witches.

  Chapter Three

  The frozen faces lasted no more than a split second, then everyone went back to what they’d been doing and saying before I showed up.

  Everyone except Meredith Munn, who bustled over and said, “It’s about time.”

  The Witch of Pennwood was not my favorite individual, or even my favorite witch. She was a no-nonsense sort and had terrified me with her demands the first time she’d showed up at the farmhouse unannounced. Since then she had come by again, this time when Jasper was there. The result had been my secret revealed to the one person I most hadn’t wanted to know it.

  Jasper Wolf now knew I was a witch, but he didn’t mind as much as I thought he would, meaning he was still speaking to me. So that was cool. So far.

  “I’m not late,” I told her.

  “I’m aware of that,” said the frumpy woman, clutching a glass goblet filled with liquid that was red but too bright to be wine. Mercifully, I didn’t think it was blood, either.

  She noticed me looking and scoffed.

  “We aren’t savages,” she said. “You are one of us.”

  I wanted to tell her that I most certainly was not, but I didn’t think that would be true.

  In the corner I could see a table heaped with food. The other witches had gone back to their chatting and their snacking, and some of them even looked familiar, probably from those times when they’d visited Mintwood to
see what the new witch was all about. Most of them were dressed in tweed skirts, old shirts, and colorful cloaks. I saw a handful of wands and figured that all the witches around me had them tucked away somewhere, even if they weren’t visible.

  Many even had their ghost cats with them.

  “We were waiting for you! It’s common knowledge that we all hang out before the Council meeting begins,” huffed Meredith.

  “How was I supposed to know that if you didn’t tell me?” I said. The idea of hanging out with a bunch of threatening witches wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but I knew better than to say so.

  “It doesn’t matter now. You’ll know for next time. Unless you’re like your grandmother. Follow me,” said Meredith, making her way through the large group of witches who had now gone back to staring.

  Meredith led me through the shop and out the back door. The place certainly lived up to its name, with cauldrons of all shapes and sizes hanging on the walls, one the size of a saxophone, another as big as a piano, all in a variety of colors and materials. A range of blues in a shiny gloss was my favorite, but there were also reds, browns, greens, and every other imaginable color. Some were made of metal or cast iron while others looked like they were covered in felt. That was probably the organic range.

  The back yard was like a fairy tale. There were flowers everywhere, a babbling brook and in the distance a lake. Scattered around were smooth stones for witches to sit on, with a handful of beautifully decorated cauldrons in front of them.

  All in all, a place where I would enjoy spending time. There was also magic visible in every nook and cranny. Soft music was coming from everywhere and nowhere, and golden lyrics were drifting through the air. The breeze made the lyrics sway gently, as if they were on some invisible string.

  “Wow,” I breathed. The whole place smelled of sage and rosemary and water.

  “Yes, see? And your grandmother hated coming here,” said Meredith, shaking her head.

  “She hated coming here because the rules we abide by are arcane and stiff,” said a woman’s voice.

  I glanced around to see, sitting next to one of the cauldrons, a smartly dressed witch wearing maroon from head to toe. She had a rakish hat and carried a black-handled broom.

  “We have survived for hundreds of years by these rules, Josephine,” replied Meredith. It was clear from their demeanor that they didn’t get along.