Wands Have More Fun

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Wands Have More Fun Page 7

by Rebecca Regnier


  “Let me look really quick.” I couldn’t resist taking a peek at the meeting; our time freeze lasted only a second, but it was second I could use well.

  “Hurry!” Candy said, and I peeked my head around into the meeting.

  The Fraternal Order of the Moose lodge members had their fists in the air. Their mouths formed into the word, ‘Bay.’

  I spied a few familiar faces and one that I recognized but couldn’t place off the top of my head.

  “Come on!” I heard Fawn yell.

  She grabbed me and we ran outside. I had my broom and so did Fawn.

  Candy had driven, but we didn’t have time to get to her car. We started to hear the chant. It was times up on our time freeze.

  “My car’s around the corner.”

  “No time to get to your car, get on!”

  Candy and I straddled my broom while Fawn got on hers.

  “Let’s go!” We streaked off into the sky. Instead of my broom being slow with two people, it was faster with two witches!

  “We need to meet, now,” I said and shot the information toward Fawn.

  “The Broken Spine, the Frog Toe is packed,” I added. We pointed our brooms in the direction of the bookstore.

  And I hoped all my sisters in the coven had got the message.

  Chapter 7

  “This day has sucked,” Georgianne said as she opened The Broken Spine for us. I kept checking to see if Ridge was somehow behind us.

  “Speaking of sucked, check out the hickey on Marzie.” Fawn used her thumb to point to the vicinity of my neck.

  “This is not the time.”

  “Now it is the time, a little good news on a day that sucked,” Georgianne said and inspected my neck.

  “I mean, it could have been puncture marks. From what I hear, you’re lucky,” Candy added, and I hurried to change the subject.

  “The issue we need to deal with is The Moose Lodge,” I said, and Candy agreed on that score.

  “Pauline’s on the way, and Tatum said she’ll FaceTime it. Like you said, The Frog Toe is packed, and she’s short-handed tonight,” Candy updated us on the status of our Coven Quorum of six.

  “Coffee’s on. So, a date with a vampire, eh?” Georgianne wasn’t quite ready to let this one go.

  “I guess so, yes. I’ve gone from divorcee to bride of the damned, quite a turnaround.”

  “Bride?”

  “Kidding. We drank some fancy wine, made out; it was almost like high school. Except it wasn’t wine coolers. And we leap-flew to our date.” And that was all I was going to say on the matter. “We have more pressing issues.”

  “Don’t we always,” Fawn said, and Candy opened the door for Pauline who had her head in the window. “Leap-fly? That’s how they get around. Hmm.”

  “I think we’re under attack,” I said, ignoring further discussion about the travel style of French vampires.

  “Alvarado?” Pauline said. Alvarado had moved into the Area. He wanted to take over the world, or at least Widow’s Bay, because our ground, our water, and our air were vital to the Yooper Naturals. He also liked enslaving witches. All these were a hard no for us. And we’d contained him. This time we had an enemy within, sort of. The members of The Moose Lodge were people born and raised in Widow’s Bay, and from all previous accounts, nice-ish guys.

  “NO, this time it’s the Fraternal Order of Moose.”

  “You’ve got to be joking. Did Marzie say, Moose? Let me move into the office, I can’t hear,” Tatum said from the FaceTime connection.

  “Yep, she said Moose,” Georgianne spoke directly into the phone for Tatum’s listening pleasure.

  “‘Take back The Bay’ is their rallying cry,” Candy said.

  “Except they’ve never had Widow’s Bay, it’s always been a haven for our coven, going back to the founding.” Georgianne was the expert on that.

  “Well, that’s what they were chanting though, enthusiastically,” I added.

  “Do you think they have something to do with my recent business issue?” Georgianne asked.

  “Maybe,” Fawn replied.

  I had definitely recognized one of The Moose members, and I was about to put the name with the face when our impromptu meeting was interrupted.

  “You ladies need to get those wands going.” I jumped a foot. There, out of nowhere, were Frances, Dorothy, and Maxine. Maxine had made the pronouncement.

  “I didn’t call you three in the middle of the night to this meeting. You shouldn’t be out this late. It’s dangerous! And what do wands have to do with anything?” I asked.

  I did not like them driving at night; they couldn’t read the numbers on their television remote control! Detecting hazards in the roads in Widow’s Bay was something I struggled with each day, and I wasn’t one hundred. I was about to make an issue of it, but then I realized they’d been traveling roads their entire lives, who was I to say they couldn’t. Ugh, still. I re-focused on their mention of wands.

  “The wands are the last tool in your magical toolbox. You’re okay on spells and brooms, but you’re clueless on the wands,” Maxine added in disgust. Fawn found a few chairs for the older ladies to sit down.

  “I understand that I’m assuming you heard our discussion about The Moose Lodge?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry, dear, no need to recap. We’ve got a listening in spell hidden in the French Press machine.” Aunt Dorothy said.

  They were bugging us? Did she know I had a date too? Too many people were going to be in my business. I bristled at that thought.

  “Ooh, French Press, I’d love some.” Frances perked up at the thought. And Georgianne stood up to prepare Frances a cup.

  “I thought the biggest threat was Alvarado, not some half-baked Fraternal Order of Large Non-Predatory Mammals,” Tatum chimed in.

  “It is, but in this case, when the witches show weakness, threats can come from any side.” Dorothy was serious and intense when she said it. It showed me how she must have been as a younger witch when she was Mayor of Widow’s Bay.

  “Ridge Schutte wants to run this town. He knows we’re gaining in power; he’s trying to undermine it any way he can,” Candy added as she paced across the floor of the bookstore.

  “Back to the wands. We’ve tried to bring you about slowly because it is a lot to learn. What with the coven just getting back together as well? And with Marzie being so dense about magical creatures, we didn’t want to overwhelm you. But the wands are critical.”

  My reflex was to protest about that dense comment. But I had no defense. I’d resisted the magic of Widow’s Bay my entire life. It took a lot for me to believe what the rest of them understood innately. And I did like watching Aunt Dorothy do her thing. She could get a meeting back on track; it had been her job, after all, for decades.

  “Okay, so Georgianne, what’s it say? What do we do?” Pauline asked.

  “I’ve got it all right here, how to make them, where to get the wood.” Georgianne laid the grimoire book thing on the table. I hadn’t paid much attention to it the other night.

  As Georgianne relayed all she’d learned from her constant research, I was drawn to the book itself. I drifted over to it, mesmerized by its age. I was always interested in the things Georgianne found inside the documents she’d discovered, not the physical things themselves. Yet the book was pulling me in, asking me to lay hands on it.

  Most days, it felt I was barely keeping up with events and situations around me. I reacted to stories, magic, and the tumultuous little corner of the world of which I was now a part. I never took a moment to let things sink in, to let my brain really think about the part I played in this larger story. The book represented that. It had been here for others like me.

  I put my finger on the book and then my whole palm on the cover. I felt it fly open on its own.

  I saw a flash in front of my eyes and then a vision. It was a woman. We were in this space, but it was different.

  I stared at the woman. She looked familiar, al
most like me. She was not of my time: that was easy to see. Her dress was homespun, not Kohl’s or Target, which were the main fashion centers near here.

  She was sitting at a wooden table, a fire roaring behind her. I wondered if this building used to have a fireplace. I would have to ask Georgianne sometime.

  The woman lifted a wand and looked at it. Then another woman sat down next to her. The second woman’s hair was as red as Georgianne’s. The red-headed woman had a quill and began to write on a piece of parchment paper.

  I couldn’t hear them, but I knew the first woman was talking. She held her wand, and I knew she was talking about it. What was she saying?

  Then it clicked. I realized what I was seeing.

  This was the moment the Grimoire came into existence. I knew, without a doubt. I was watching the witches who made it. They reached across the centuries and let me see. And they were, in a way, Georgianne and me. These were ancestors. They were women that Brule knew, and likely saved from Salem! Right in front of me, right now.

  The first woman put a hand on the red headed woman’s forearm. The redhead looked up from the parchment and stopped writing for a moment.

  Then both looked directly at me.

  They saw me! A worried expression clouded the darker haired woman’s face. Did I worry her? What was she seeing when she looked at 21st Century me? She whispered something to the red-haired witch. The red-haired witch pointed to the book. The dark-haired witch’s face softened; maybe some of the worry had been eased? She leaned forward. She wanted to be sure I understood.

  “Rowan,” the dark-haired witch said to me. I heard her voice! The red witch nodded and wrote something down on the parchment.

  “That’s not my name. I’m Marzenna.” Could they hear me as well now?

  “Rowan,” the dark-haired witch said again. The redheaded witch continued to write.

  “Who’s Rowan?” I asked. The two witches smiled at me and then returned to the work of writing on the parchment. I stepped forward. I needed more!

  But it was gone; they were gone. I was standing with my finger on the book in the present time. For a second, I thought I might fall, the ground felt so unstable under my feet. But it passed quickly. I was in The Broken Spine. The meeting was still underway. My coven members were talking, debating, and hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

  I looked down at open grimoire. My finger was on a passage. I bent down to read it.

  Rowan, the book said Rowan.

  “Rowan wood shall be used for the pure of heart. Shall never be used for dark magic. The bearer of the Rowan Wood Wand will best use its force to protect against evil purpose and dark curses. The Rowan Wood Wand will be the shield.”

  They weren’t calling me Rowan; they were telling me what I needed!

  Rowan, I needed a Rowan Wood Wand. When this book was written, they knew someday I would exist and that I would need a Rowan Wood Wand. I plopped down in the chair and took a moment to process what I’d just seen, what had just happened.

  The conversation of the other witches had gone on, uninterrupted by my little trip back in time. Aunt Dorothy was explaining things, teaching the witches what we’d need. I reoriented myself to the present. I shook my head, but I swore I could still smell the wood burning in the fireplace. I was there, if only for a moment.

  “Once you create the wands, you’ll have all the raw materials you need to fend off your Mooses,” Aunt Dorothy finished the instructions, most of which I had missed.

  “Moose, not mooses,” Maxine corrected Aunt Dorothy and Aunt Dorothy giggled at her mistake.

  “Ah, you’re back from your little trip, Marzie. I’m sure you learned something valuable!” Aunt Dorothy said to me. It appeared this was far from remarkable to her. I wondered what guidance she’d gotten from those same witches, or others, through the ages. My little vision didn’t stop what needed to be conveyed in this meeting. That was clear. On track was on track with this crew.

  “Now, here are a few things to know. Each wand helps each witch with a specific power or magic. They aren’t all-purpose. They stay in their lane, isn’t that the phrase the kids use? And compared to spells, the range for the wand magic is limited, but the effect is powerful.”

  We listened intently to Maxine, and Aunt Dorothy quickly explain the properties of our future wands.

  “And each wand is specific to each witch, your wand isn’t transferable,” Maxine said.

  “And what’s nice is they’ve all got a signature. Which is a hedge against shenanigans,” Dorothy added.

  “How so?” Candy asked the older witches.

  “If you use your wand incorrectly, or for a nefarious purpose, it leaves a trace that a sanctioned coven, like ours, can read. And that leads back to the witch. That keeps everyone honest. It’ll all be tracked and traced, unlikely our other spells or curses. It’s like registering a firearm.” Aunt Dorothy explained.

  “Let’s circle back then. How are we going to help defend against Ridge with the wands?” I must have missed that part while I visited ghosts of witches past.

  “You’re going to be as powerful as possible. All of you. And if Ridge Schutte, or Alvarado, or some other evil force comes against you or this town, they’ll have to face a force of witches with all cylinders firing,” Maxine said, and she pulled out the first wand I’d ever seen in real life.

  Frances did the same, “YES!”

  And then Dorothy produced hers.

  “Get your wands first, then make sure the coven learns. That will show the fellas at The Moose who they’re messing with,” Aunt Dorothy said, and she made some sort of comical antler motion with her hands above her head.

  “We can give you directions to the Wand Wood Circle. Do you remember where it is?” Aunt Maxine asked Aunt Dorothy. She put her hand out, tilting it back and forth to indicate she only sort of remembered.

  “It’ll come to me. You’ll head to the Wand Wood Circle to find the raw materials you need.”

  I would need a…Rowan tree? Was that a tree? Was it a bush? Was it in the Wand Wood Circle? I’d need to do a little research to be sure I acquired the right ingredients for the wand I needed. And I had no doubt I needed it. The vision was clearly meant to warn me or help me with whatever job I was going to face.

  We made a plan for early tomorrow. Right as the sun rose, a small group of us would head out. It needed to be early so we could all handle the million other duties and commitments we had for the coming days.

  Somehow though, the wand, which I thought of as some sort of magical accessory, took center stage in my mind. When expert witches pulled you through time to give you advice, you took it.

  And you didn’t dither about it.

  It was time to get those wands.

  Chapter 8

  I think I got six hours of sleep, from crashing into my bed at midnight, to getting up at six a.m. for our morning wand wood hunt. Yeah, six hours. Funny though, if you weren’t restless, six hours was okay.

  Compared to being up every two minutes to care for a baby, or never sleeping at all because a teenager was late after curfew, six hours could cut it just fine. Though, maybe a nap in my Jeep could happen at some point during my upcoming packed day.

  I had gotten up and ready to go so we could trek to into the forest as the sun rose.

  We’d taken M-123 North to the edge of Tahquamenon Falls State Park. The state park was almost 50,000 acres, open year-round, and so vast you could easily hike all day and not see another living soul.

  Hiking there, you would see wildlife, but the highlight was always the Upper and Lower waterfalls. My kids loved the nickname for the falls: Rootbeer Falls. The falls got the name because the water was tinged brown and coppery from the tannis that came from the nearby cedar swamps that ran into the Tahquamenon River.

  I had taken my boys, more than once, on hikes along Tahqua Trekker and on canoe trips here during our summer vacation visits to Widow’s Bay. Where we’d learned that the falls include a single 50-foot
drop and the river drains as much as 50,000 gallons of water per second. It makes this hidden gem in the U.P. the second most voluminous vertical waterfall east of the Mississippi River. Only Niagara Falls beats Tahquamenon.

  The park was established in 1947. For the first time, I wondered if Aunt Dorothy had anything to do with it? She was a witchy Leslie Knope back in her day, some evening I’d ask her. Today though, we had to move quickly. There was no time to shoot the breeze.

  As we drove, I was overtaken with a tinge of nostalgia and regret. I missed those times with my boys. At least I’d had them though; my ex had decided to golf most of the times the boys and I set out to explore.

  Maybe someday I’d take them out here again, now that I lived up here.

  But when evil curses and power-hungry Moose Lodge members wanted to overthrow your town, you didn’t have the luxury of indulging in over much melancholy. That was an upside to my new life, no doubt.

  Today, Fawn had taken the driving duties since she had a pickup truck and we’d need it for our haul of magical raw materials. We parked her truck at the trailhead and dragged a cart behind us as we walked, with no real clear picture of where we were headed.

  “Okay, we’re at the south end of the Giant Pines Loop.”

  This was one of the hiking trails that ran through the park. I was relaying our location to Aunt Dorothy on her cell phone.

  “Hmm. Do you see a bend in the trail with three tall pines?”

  With my Aunt Dorothy directing us, I had some concern that we’d accidentally drive off a cliff.

  “Is she literally telling us to find pine trees?” Georgianna crinkled her nose because honestly, it was a bit hilarious since the place was covered in pine trees.

  “Simmer down, girls, you’ll see what I mean.”

 

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