Make Some Magic

by Morgana Best

  I stopped him. “I’ve never heard of a malingee. What is it?”

  “It’s a creature from Aboriginal mythology. Not a well known one at all, one of the lesser known ones. A malingee is a bad Aboriginal spirit that only comes out at night.”

  “Oh,” I said, thinking that was why I hadn’t sensed the presence of one through the day.

  “Did that ring a bell? You’ve heard of them, then?”

  I shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Gerald looked at me quizzically and then continued. “The only way you can tell if one is around is by the scraping sound that they make, and that’s caused by their stone knees knocking together. In general, they keep away from humans, but if they’re in any way aggravated by people, they won’t think twice about killing them.”

  “Are they associated with massacres?”

  Gerald shook his head. “No, not at all. Talk of massacres in this district is all an old wives’ tale, really. Anyway, the malingee won’t think twice about killing an individual who annoys it, but they never attack groups of people. They kill with a stone knife. The letters said that they had bright red eyes, like coals in a burning fire.”

  I thought it over. It definitely seemed to fit. I had never sensed the presence of an evil entity in Hillgrove, or Bakers Creek for that matter, and I had only been there in the daytime. It appeared that the evil creature was a malingee.

  At any rate, I was thrilled. I had finally fulfilled my assignment for SI7. I had surely found out the identity of the creature that had killed people at Hillgrove, and Gerald’s ancestor’s letters would supply me with even more information. But what sort of name did the Black Lodge want? Simply malingee, the type of spirit? Or did it have a personal name, like Bill or George? That seemed a bit far-fetched. And what was Douglas’s interest in all this?

  “I can’t make photocopies of the letters to post to you, I’m afraid,” Gerald said, “as they’re way too faded. I can let you look at them and take notes. I could drop them off to you next week in Armidale when I go in, or you could call in at my house any time to look at them.”

  I thought of John’s dire warnings. “I’ll think about it and let you know.” For all I knew, Gerald was the murderer.

  Gerald nodded. “Perhaps you could bring your friend too.”

  “My friend?”

  “Yes, that nice man, Douglas. He told me how he does research for your magazine.”

  I gritted my teeth. “He did, did he? I didn’t know you’d met Douglas.”

  Gerald nodded again. “Yes, he’s been out here taking photographs too, and asking questions.”

  I put on my sweetest smile. “Gerald, Douglas and I are both rivals for the same promotion. Would you mind if you didn’t tell him about your great, great grandfather’s letters?”

  Gerald looked crestfallen. “I’m so sorry, Misty. I had no idea. I’ve already told him. I thought the two of you were working together. He hasn’t seen the letters yet, though. I’m so sorry.”

  I exhaled loudly. “It’s not your fault at all, Gerald. Can you somehow keep the letters from him if he wants to see them, make something up?”

  “I’ll try.” After another apology, Gerald left and I went back to my car. I unlocked it, drank some water, and ate a cookie. What was I to do now? I stood up and stretched, and then sat back down in the car again. It was no use thinking; my head was in a muddle and I needed a decent sleep. I called John’s phone, but I was out of range. I decided to head back to Armidale, and to report to John about the malingee.

  I was only just south of Hillgrove when my phone rang. I picked it up but the connection was bad, so I pulled off the road and parked.

  “Hello? I haven’t heard anything. Can you say it again?”

  “Misty, it’s Gerald,” the voice yelled over the line. “I’ve just got back home and Douglas has turned up. He wants to see the letters, but I’ve told him that we should wait for you. Are you far away?”

  Good old Gerald. I hope I hadn’t put him on the spot. “No, I’m just up the road. I’ll be right there. I should be able to remember the way to your place. Can you shout? I can barely hear you.”

  “Hang on, Douglas wants to speak with you.”

  “Hey, bring me a coffee will you, Misty?”

  I couldn’t think of anything rude to say to Douglas, which was just as well as he must have handed the phone back to Gerald. “See you soon. Call if you get lost,” Gerald said, and then hung up.

  Remembering John’s dire warnings, I texted him to let him know where I was headed and that Douglas was there too. I drove off and somehow managed to find my way back to Gerald’s, although I only narrowly missed taking a wrong turn.

  The front door was open, but I knocked. “Hello? Gerald?”

  Gerald appeared, drinking a coffee. “Hi Misty, let’s have a cup of tea and then get started. Or would you prefer coffee?”

  “What sort of coffee do you have?” I despise instant coffee, so asking this question usually gives me the heads up as to whether someone has a coffee machine, without offending them.

  Gerald furrowed his brow and named a brand of instant coffee.

  “Actually, a nice cup of tea would be great. Black, no sugar, please.”

  Gerald disappeared in the direction of the kitchen and reappeared almost instantly with a cup of tea.

  “Where’s Douglas?”

  Gerald laughed. “You’ll be very pleased with me. I sent him down to the barn and told him I’d left the files, my great, great grandfather’s letters, down there on a bench where I was sitting in the sun to eat lunch. That will give you time to look through them first.”

  “Thanks so much, Gerald.” I beamed at him. Who would have thought he’d be so sneaky?

  I opened the folder and looked at the first letter. It was blurry. “Oh, where are my glasses?” I wondered aloud. As soon as I said that, I realised I was wearing my glasses. “Not again,” I said. I looked over at Gerald, and he looked malevolent. “Have you drugged me?” I asked him.

  Suddenly, it all fell into place. Gerald was the one who had put the drug in my water, when the car was at the cemetery. I’d already had several mouthfuls of water before I arrived at the cemetery and hadn’t felt drowsy at all, not until shortly after I left the cemetery.

  Plus whoever was controlling the spirit had to be successful, wealthy even. Ethan was living in a tiny, rented cottage, and Samuel was fond of drink. A heavy drinker would not be able to control a powerful spirit. Gerald, on the other hand, was wealthy.

  It had to be Gerald.

  Gerald’s expression was one of puzzlement. “Of course not. What do you mean?”

  “I can’t see and I’m wearing my glasses.”

  Gerald laughed. “You’re drinking hot tea. No doubt it fogged up your glasses.”

  “Oh.” I had to do my best to prevent Gerald from discovering I was onto him. “You must think I’m quite mad, Gerald. I’m really embarrassed. I’m so sorry for thinking you’d drugged me.”

  “Why would I drug you?”

  I shrugged and stood up. I had to think of an excuse to leave as soon as I could.

  Gerald stood up. “Yes, why would I drug you when I have this?” He pulled out a gun from behind his back and waved it at me. It was a small hand gun, not a rifle like farmers have. My knowledge of guns was zero.

  My first thought was, Here we go again. That’s not to say I wasn’t scared. Far from it—I was terrified. This was the third or forth time someone had threatened my life. I’d lost count.

  I wondered why Gerald saw me as a threat. Did he realise I had figured out he had drugged me? What was the connection between Gerald and the malingee? Or was there a different reason he was pointing a gun at me?

  He waved the gun towards a door at the back of the kitchen, indicating I should walk over there. I hoped that the gun wouldn’t accidentally go off. I walked over to the door, terrified that he would shoot me in the back. I walked through the door and saw steps immediately
ahead of me.

  A basement. We really don’t have them in Australia, but this was the second time I’d encountered one in a house with people trying to kill me. I suppose if people engage in criminal activities, then they do need a basement or some sort of hideaway. I was forcing myself to think logically as a firewall against my fear, but fear now rose to take the upper hand.

  I was trembling and terrified. I braced myself as I took the first step, fearing Gerald would push me down the stairs.

  The door slammed hard behind me as I reached the third step. I breathed a sigh of relief. Gerald hadn’t shot me or pushed me down the stairs, so he clearly intended to keep me alive, at least for the time being. I stopped and hoped like hell that something sinister wasn’t waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

  I crept down, holding my breath. I could hear something moving down there, something larger than a rat.

  There was a small, rectangular window ahead of me to the left, high up and barred. Of all things, it had flimsy lace curtains over it. It allowed some light into the room, but I had to squint to see my surroundings.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned hard to the right. To my left was nothing but a cold, stone wall. I tentatively rounded the corner, and then stood stock still when I saw Douglas ahead of me.

  “Douglas!”

  “Misty!”

  We stared at each other. Douglas was sitting with his back to a pole, his hands behind him, and a length of thick, rough rope tied around his feet.

  Chapter 20

  For the second time in the space of a few minutes, I thought, Here we go again.

  “Misty, quick, untie me.”

  I laughed harshly. “Been there, done that, Douglas.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I snorted rudely. “How could you forget? Doesn’t this scenario seem familiar to you? Back in England, when you and Cassandra tried to kill me? How stupid do I look? It worked last time, but it won’t work this time!”

  Again Douglas asked, “What do you mean?”

  I was getting angry, and for the moment, anger overcame my fear. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember! Cassandra had you tied up and said she’d kill you if I didn’t tell her where that document she wanted was. I told her, and then she untied you, and the two of you both laughed at me, and then you were both going to kill me.”

  I sneezed violently. I don’t think Gerald kept this place dusted.

  “Misty, I did not try to kill you. We’ve been through this before. I’m a double agent…”

  I cut him off. “Double agent indeed! Gerald will come down the steps and say that he’ll kill you if I don’t tell him something or other.”

  And right on cue, a light came on in the room. The switch must have been outside the basement door. I looked around for something I could use as a weapon, but there was nothing.

  This was no ordinary basement used for storage. Rather, it was some sort of ritual room. Strange symbols were painted on every wall, and the space was dominated by a large stone altar which looked like it was used for blood sacrifice. I was too scared to look too closely, as it seemed to be covered in old blood stains. Behind that, and against the wall was another altar covered with candles and ritual items, including what very much looked like a ritual dagger made of stone. It was too high on the wall to reach.

  Gerald came down the stairs waving the gun in front of him. “Okay, I’ve hidden both your cars in the barn just to be on the safe side. Go over there, near your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I spat.

  “Whatever. Now, I need you to tell me why you two are snooping around asking questions. Who sent you?”

  I spoke first. “I’m a journalist. Call the magazine and ask them. I told you the name, Ghoulzette. I’m here to do a story on ghosts in Hillgrove. Call them and ask them.”

  Gerald shook his head. “Tell me the truth or he gets it.” He pointed the gun at Douglas.

  I laughed, which came out as a false, high-pitched laugh due to my fear. “Shoot him then. I don’t care. I don’t like him. I don’t care what you do with him.”

  “Misty!” Douglas’s tone was urgent.

  I turned to him. “How stupid do you think I am, Douglas? Once bitten, twice shy! I know the two of you are in it together. You even spoke with me on the phone and told me to come.”

  “He was pointing a gun at me,” Douglas said.

  I shook my head.

  Gerald walked over to Douglas and held the gun against his head. “Tell me what you’re really doing, Misty, or I’ll shoot him. I’m not fooling around.”

  “I really don’t care. Shoot him then. See if I care.”

  “I’m not bluffing.”

  I shrugged. “Do what you have to do. It won’t work this time.”

  I wondered why small beads of sweat were forming on Douglas’s forehead. Either he was a very good actor or he was wondering how far Gerald would carry this charade.

  “I won’t shoot him. I’ll sacrifice you both to the malingee.” Gerald broke off and nodded at me. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate two.”

  Gerald walked towards me and I backed behind the big stone altar. I tried to buy time. “Have you been sacrificing to the malingee?” I asked.

  “Not in worship if that’s what you mean. My family bound this malingee generations ago. We feed it with blood sacrifice.”

  I kept trying to stall. “So your family has lived in this town for what, a hundred years or so?”

  Gerald nodded but kept advancing at me slowly. I, in turn, kept backing away from him around the stone altar. “The malingee will kill anyone who gets in our way. My family’s been involved in insider trading and stock manipulation since 1898. If anyone gets too close to what we’re doing, we call on the malingee to kill them.”

  “See, I told you I wasn’t involved,” Douglas said.

  I shot him a withering look.

  “Anyway, I have to summon the malingee now.” Gerald looked at my puzzled face. “Did you think I actually make the sacrifices myself? Do you think I’m insane? I just get people here for the malingee. He kills them. That British tourist was asking too many questions, so I got the malingee to kill him and then I threw his body over the cliff.”

  I was at once somewhat relieved that Gerald himself had not done the killing. My situation was still grim but had improved slightly and for that I was grateful. I had a better chance with the creature than with Gerald’s gun.

  Gerald moved to the altar against the wall, still pointing the gun at me. He started a strange chanting which soon had the whole room vibrating, albeit imperceptibly. I looked at the ceiling and wondered again at the strange symbols there, and on the floor as well as the walls. I figured that these were wards to keep the creature contained within this room, once it was summoned.

  I could now feel the looming presence of the malingee. There was a noise like stone grating against stone, the terrifying sound of its stone knees advancing.

  “Excuse me, won’t you? I don’t want to be here when it comes.”

  Gerald backed up the stairs, holding the gun in front of him. The door slammed. I heard the lock click, and then the light went out.

  I could still see, but the room was dim.

  “Misty, untie me, fast.”

  “There’s no time, Douglas.”

  “Misty...”

  “Quiet, Douglas,” I snapped. “I have to concentrate, but you will have to be quiet. Do you understand?”

  Douglas nodded.

  I sat on the floor next to the stone altar with my back against the cold stone wall. I could feel the ground rumbling as the thing approached, but I could not let that rush me. I took a deep breath, and calmed my breathing.

  Keep calm, keep calm, I kept saying to myself as a mantra.

  Suddenly, in front of me, the malingee appeared. I shot a glance at Douglas, but it appeared that he couldn’t see it.

  The malingee was at once in front of me, and clutching at my throat.
As its fingers reached my neck, I turned my head to avoid its foul breath. What to do now? I not only had to make sure that it didn’t harm me; I had to make sure that I broke Gerald’s hold on it. But how?

  What did I know about it? Douglas wanted the creature’s name so the Black Lodge could control it. Therefore, Gerald was controlling it by its name. “What is your name?” I asked it. “Tell me, and I’ll release you.”

  For a moment, nothing happened, and the malingee loomed over me. I fought back rising panic. I held my breath, until it whispered, “Djarraba.”

  I wasted no time. “Djarraba, I command you to break free of the bonds that Gerald Wakefield’s family has put on you and I command you never to be bound again by anyone.” I hoped like crazy that would work. I was careful to whisper his name so Douglas could not hear.

  The malingee reeled back and then lurched from side to side, trying to gain its balance. Before my eyes, it started changing shape. The grotesque, distorted face changed and became an ageless face of intense and ancient power. It changed from an ugly, misshapen form into a stone-like form pulsating with energy.

  The malingee walked over to me, its stone knees making an ominous sound. It said, “Thank you, Misty Friday,” and vanished.

  I felt nauseous for a moment. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it.

  “Misty, what happened?”

  I walked over to him and looked at him. Should I untie him? What if he was working with Gerald?

  “What happened?” he asked again.

  I shrugged. “I can’t explain it,” I said, meeting his gaze, “but the creature won’t be back.”

  “Untie me?” His tone was pleading.

  I thought hard. If Gerald and his gun came back, I had no hope of fending him off by myself. But if Douglas was working for him, then it was a choice between two evils.

  I sighed, and starting tugging at the knots in the ropes around his wrists. “Douglas, I swear, you had better not be on his side.”

  Douglas at once mumbled protests, but I wasn’t listening. I undid his ropes, quite a feat considering my fingers were numb from fear. When his wrist ropes were released, he untied the ropes from his feet. At the same time, the light came on, alerting us to the fact that Gerald was about to come back down the stairs.